Three Hours Late

by Nicole Trope

  But by the time they got back from Bali she knew that a baby would make them complete. ‘A baby makes you a proper family,’ Alex said.

  ‘I want to raise my kids while I’m still young,’ she told Molly over coffee. ‘I want to travel, but I’d rather travel with my kids, open their eyes to the world. I mean, imagine how amazing it would be to experience different countries through the eyes of your children.’

  ‘Are those your words or Alex’s?’ said Molly, and Liz had felt herself colour and burn. She had made an excuse about having to get groceries and left the cafe there and then. Molly had called later to apologise.

  ‘I’m sorry, Liz. I have no right to tell you what to do with your life. I’m glad you’re so happy.’

  ‘Don’t worry about it—and I am happy, Molly. One day you’ll meet someone like Alex and you’ll know what I mean.’

  ‘Yeah, I guess,’ Molly said.

  She and Alex had laughed about Molly in bed. Alex said, ‘She’s just jealous of us, babe. She wants what we’ve got and she knows there’s no man stupid enough to take her on with all her bullshit.’

  Liz had agreed with Alex, not wanting to defend her friend when she knew where her loyalty should lie.

  She had taken a few steps back from the friendship and concentrated on her marriage. Molly persisted with a few phone calls, but after a while she seemed to give up, and Liz had thought, ‘Maybe we weren’t that close after all.’

  Molly never mentioned the visit from Alex that had persuaded her to stop calling her friend.

  He had found her in the playground at the school where she taught. It was lunch time and Molly was supervising the children on the play equipment. Alex told the school secretary he was her brother.

  At first Molly was worried that something had happened to Liz but Alex just chatted about the weather for a few minutes before letting her know the real reason for his visit.

  ‘I just think it would be better if you gave Liz and me a little space right now,’ he said.

  Molly had wanted to turn and walk away but she was watching the children and she couldn’t. She wanted to tell Alex to just leave but she was out in the open where everyone could see and Molly remembered Alex’s stiff fury with the photographer.

  ‘Alex, Liz is my friend. You and I don’t need to be friends but you can’t dictate who Liz is friends with.’

  ‘Married people compromise, Molly. Maybe you’ll never know about that but you wouldn’t want to be a reason for Liz and I to fight, would you?’

  ‘Of course not, but she’s my friend and I want to spend time with her.’

  ‘Face it, Molly,’ Alex said, ‘you’re in a very different place to Liz. Let her be happy. You want her to be happy, don’t you?’

  Molly had nodded and even though Alex had smiled the whole time she had been relieved when he left. She had been standing with her arms folded across her chest while they’d been talking. She knew she was protecting herself but she couldn’t see what from. Alex had made no threats, yet she had felt threatened.

  She did what he asked, deciding that it was better to give Liz the space she needed.

  Liz had also, without realising it, taken a few steps back from her parents. She and her father usually saw each other once a month, but one day Liz realised that she had not seen him for two months running. One of the days she was supposed to see him Alex surprised her with a weekend away, and she couldn’t say no to that. Then the next time she was supposed to see him Alex had been feeling really sick, complaining of severe pain in his stomach, and Liz really hadn’t liked to leave him. When she did see her father there seemed to be less to say and there had never been very much to talk about anyway.

  Alex liked to hear about all the ways her parents had betrayed her. If she mentioned something about them that irritated her he would agree and give her more examples to mull over. Liz could feel herself handing up her parents’ quirks to Alex like a gift. He was always so happy when she had something unflattering to say about her mother or her father. He would jump into the discussion with relish, pointing out things she may have missed.

  ‘We’re fine, just the two of us,’ Alex said. ‘We don’t need anyone else and one day there’ll be a baby and we will be a real family. It will be nothing like the families we came from.’

  She was working during the day teaching a class of seven-year-olds and there was a lot of stuff to do in the house after school.

  ‘How many times do you really need to see your mother?’ Alex asked.

  ‘Your mother is always making snide remarks about me and my father,’ Alex said.

  ‘You mother hates me. I bet she wishes we would get divorced. She would rather have you alone and unhappy than with me,’ Alex pouted.

  Liz could laugh at some of the stuff he said. She could deny her mother felt that way and she could tell him to get over it, but as time passed it was easier to see her mother less and lie about it when she did.

  She spent more time on the house and more time being a good wife.

  Alex liked things done a certain way and she was okay with that. ‘My father and I had to keep order after she left or everything would have been complete chaos,’ he told her.

  ‘You were only five,’ she said. ‘How could you keep things in order?’

  ‘I just did what had to be done,’ he said.

  Something in his voice broke her heart. She knew what a five-year-old boy was like. Some of the ones at school hadn’t quite figured out toilet training. They cried for their mothers without a second thought and greeted them like long-lost lovers at the end of the day. She wanted to shed tears for five-year-old Alex but something in his tone made her restrain herself. He was allowed to bring up his mother, but she was not.

  Their first anniversary came and went and without her being totally conscious of what had happened; Liz structured her whole life around keeping Alex happy.

  She was very good at keeping him happy until Luke arrived. Then she had someone more important to keep happy and Alex hadn’t liked that. He hadn’t liked that at all. She wanted to tell him that this was how mothers were with their children but she couldn’t think of how to say it.

  She did start to wonder why his mother had left. Frank was a difficult man but that couldn’t be the full story, and it was possible that he had been easy-going and happy before his wife left. After Luke arrived she could not imagine ever leaving him. The concept of walking out on your child was ridiculous. Why hadn’t Alex’s mother just taken him with her? She couldn’t ask these questions of Alex.

  She left the past where it was. If Alex didn’t want to get in touch with his mother then it was not Liz’s business to figure things out for him. She felt the baby kick and she stopped thinking about anything else. She wanted the perfect marriage and the perfect family as much as Alex did. Every book, every television show and every internet forum on marriage told her it was all about compromise. That’s what she did—until what she was required to compromise was everything.

  Liz turned away from the window and went into the kitchen to make another cup of tea. While she was waiting for the kettle to boil she chewed on a fingernail. Alex was forty-five minutes late now. Forty-five minutes was nothing. There was really no reason to be worried except . . . except . . . except lateness was not something Alex tolerated.

  When they started dating he always rang the bell exactly on time and he made little remarks about women being ditzy when it came to time because she was always just a few minutes behind. Sometimes she had to change and sometimes her hair wasn’t working. Her lateness became a running joke that had an edge to it she hadn’t appreciated at first. To Alex, her inability to be on time meant that she had little chance of controlling other areas of her life.

  ‘Not sure how you can keep a class of little kids on the straight and narrow when you won’t be there as the bell rings,’ he had joked.

  ‘Don’t let Liz organise tonight or we’ll never get there,’ he told his friends.

 
‘Just tell Liz a time about fifteen minutes before she actually needs to be there and then we’re golden.’

  Eventually she did exactly what he wanted; she got ready early enough to watch him walk up the front path and early enough to be ready to leave as soon as she opened the door.

  Alex was never early and he was never late. It was just the way he was. Since the day they had separated, Alex had always brought Luke back on time. In chat rooms she read about how infuriating it was for other women whose ex-husbands were late picking up the kids and late dropping them off and she had always been pleased that at least this was not one of her concerns.

  Something was different. If she didn’t try to ignore the niggling concern, she was beginning to feel she knew that today was very different. Last night had given Alex some hope and this morning she had taken it away from him. There was no question that she shouldn’t have done that but she had and now he was late.

  She looked at her watch again. It was two forty-seven. She poured herself a cup of tea and noticed her hand was trembling. She thought about getting in her car to go and look for them but she had no idea where she would even begin.

  When the phone rang her heart leapt in her chest and she grabbed it so clumsily she almost dropped it.

  ‘Hey, babe,’ said Alex.

  ‘Alex, Jesus, where are you? You’re so late. He’s missed his nap time.’ Fear made her louder than she should have been. She couldn’t explain why she was scared. It was a creeping knowledge that was coming with each passing minute that they weren’t home. She pissed him off immediately.

  ‘Calm the fuck down, Liz. I thought we could spend a little more time together. He’s having such fun.’

  ‘Where are you?’

  ‘We’re at one of those arcade places. I don’t really know where. Some shopping centre I guess. Anyway, he’s having a great time. He’s with his dad. Come here, Luke; tell Mum you’re having a good time.’

  Liz could hear the metallic ringing noises usually associated with arcades. Luke loved them but they were a once-in-a-while treat. The flashing lights always gave Liz a headache. There were only a few games for his age and he always sulked about not being able to play everything. Mostly he just liked to feed the tokens into the machines. She felt momentarily grateful that Alex had taken him and she could put it off herself for a few months.

  ‘Hi, Mum,’ said Luke.

  ‘Hey, baby boy, are you okay?’

  ‘Yeah, but Dad took my blankie. He says big boys don’t have blankies.’

  Liz could hear the tremor in Luke’s voice. He was trying not to cry. Alex was very into the idea that big boys didn’t cry. He had been saying it to Luke since Luke could talk. She told her son that it was okay to cry sometimes and that she would keep it a secret when he did. Now she felt his little voice pull at her heart and she wanted to reach through the phone and grab him away from his father. She could feel an acid growl start in her stomach. She bit down on her tongue, keeping herself calm, keeping Luke calm.

  ‘No, that’s not true. Big boys can have blankies. Don’t worry. You can have it when you get home. I promise.’

  ‘Okay.’

  Alex took the phone from his son. ‘Stop turning him into a wuss, Liz. The kid is too big to have a blankie.’

  ‘Alex, where are you? Tell me the name of the shopping centre. I can drive out and meet you. Save you the drive back.’

  ‘I don’t know the name, Liz. It’s not near your mother’s house. We’ve been driving around.’

  Alex knew the name. Why was he lying?

  ‘But if you just ask someone I could . . .’

  ‘No, Liz, I don’t want you to fetch him. He’s with me now. Do you understand? He’s with me.’

  Liz could hear that something had shifted. Alex’s voice had dropped a tone. He was waiting for her to say something wrong. He wanted her to push him. He wanted her to give him an excuse. She just didn’t know what he needed an excuse for.

  ‘Okay, Alex. But you need to bring him home now, it’s way past two.’

  ‘I told you, babe—we’re having a bit more time together. He’s my kid, Liz. You can’t tell me how much time I’m allowed to spend with him.’ Liz could hear a smile in his voice. Not a smile—a smirk. He was a cat with a silly little mouse to play with.

  ‘I know, Alex; I’m not trying to tell you anything. I just don’t want him to get too tired. You know how cranky he can get.’

  ‘He’s fine when he’s with me, Liz. I don’t take crap. I want you to talk to me for a few minutes. We need to sort this thing out. Before I bring him back I want a proper answer from you. I need to know if you’re going to come home. Home where you belong.’

  Liz understood now, but she had to stay strong. She would not tell Alex what he wanted to hear.

  ‘Alex, I’ve told you I need time to figure things out. Please— now is not the time to talk. Bring Luke home and I promise I’ll make a time with you when we can discuss things.’

  ‘Do you think I’m stupid, Liz?’ Alex’s voice was low and menacing. Liz’s body recognised the change before her mind did. Her muscles went stiff and she braced herself for the physical contact, but she wasn’t with him.

  He couldn’t hit her, so who was he going to hit?

  Who was he going to hit?

  She thought about Luke and the possibility that he might get in the way of Alex’s simmering rage but then she shook her head. Alex wouldn’t hurt Luke—he just wouldn’t.

  ‘Alex, I’m sorry. Of course I don’t think you’re stupid. I know we have to discuss this, I know we do. Maybe you’re right. You come home now and I can let my mother take Luke out for dinner. We can go out or stay here, just the two of us, and we can talk.’

  ‘You say that now, Liz, but as soon as I get there you’re going to fob me off and whine about needing more time. That’s always the way it is with you.’

  ‘I know we need to talk, Alex. Just come home and we’ll have all the time we need to discuss this.’

  It would have been easy just to say yes to him, but when he brought Luke home she didn’t want to have to deal with his anger when she told him she had lied.

  ‘Bing! Did you hear that, Liz?’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Bing! Time’s up, Liz. Time’s up.’

  And then the phone went dead.

  For a moment Liz just stood and looked at the phone in her hand. She didn’t even know what to think. She didn’t understand what he meant by ‘time’s up’.

  He had never hung up on her before. She was the one who usually ended their calls: ‘I can’t discuss this anymore, Alex. I’ll call you tomorrow.’

  She should have lied. She should have told him that they could play happy families again.

  She would tell him right now. She dialled the phone, ready with her lie, but it went straight to voicemail. He had switched it off again.

  She called back three or four times and then she gave up.

  Alex wasn’t winding himself up; he was already taut and ready to snap. She could feel it.

  He needed her to use a word or a phrase or a tone that he could hang on to and then use as an excuse. She rubbed her head trying to think of what he had in mind. What was he going to do and blame her for later? Would he hit Luke? Could he actually strike his three-year-old child with the same force he used to hit her?

  She wished he was there with her now. She would say something, anything, and snap the elastic. If she was there he could hit her. At least after he hit her she didn’t have to wait for it anymore. Once it was over she could take comfort in his kind words and promises and know that at least for a day or a week she was safe. After a week at the most she would see a change in Alex, just something small in the way he looked at her and she would know that the cycle was beginning again.

  The waiting was harder than the pain.

  While she was waiting she was always working out how hard it was going to be and how much damage was going to be done. She was already preparing her excuse
s for the outside world should anyone other than Alex catch a glimpse of the damage to her flesh.

  Liz had never been very good at the waiting. There had been times when the waiting had been too hard and then she had pushed and goaded and laughed at Alex so that the wait would be over. There had been times when it had been her fault, even though it was never supposed to be her fault. Presumably there were women who were better at the waiting. Liz always wondered if they got hit less.

  Even though Liz only ever traced the abuse back to after Luke had been born, there had been a time before Luke. A time when she was still firmly entrenched in the first flush of love. It was something she couldn’t tell anyone about. The incident made her cringe when she thought about it now.

  They had only been going out for a few months when they decided to have a weekend away together. Liz had arrived at Alex’s apartment to find him methodically filling his suitcase with neat piles of clothing. He was muttering to himself as he packed, reminding himself of everything he needed to take with him, and Liz had found him so peculiar she had laughed. He had laughed with her and then, after watching him for a few more minutes, she began to tease him.

  ‘Careful there, Alex, I think your underwear and your socks may have mixed a little in that corner.’

  ‘Watch out, Alex, I don’t think that shirt is perfectly straight.’

  She couldn’t quite pick the moment when he had stopped laughing but it was only a moment between him laughing and him picking up a perfectly rolled pair of socks and throwing it at her. It was only a pair of socks but they had hit her in the eye with an unnerving accuracy. He hadn’t hurt her, not really. It was a pair of socks and her eye felt a bit strange and there were a few stinging tears but it wasn’t like she was in pain.

  ‘Oh, God, Liz, I’m so sorry, I don’t know what happened . . . it was a joke. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to actually hit you.’

  She had forgiven him. Of course she had forgiven him. It was only a pair of socks.