The Silent Speak

by Val Collins

  A giant, modern workstation in the corner looked completely out of place, as did the two large computer screens and printer and the five lever-arch files stacked against the wall.

  ‘I work from home,’ Triona said when she saw Aoife looking at them. She pointed at the sofa and took a seat opposite. ‘I am not the femme fatale The Sun will make out. I’ve loved Martin since I was fifteen and he’s the only man I’ve ever loved.’

  ‘Fifteen! How did he end up marrying Ruth?’

  ‘I went to college in Trinity, he went to Cork. Of course, we promised to meet up every weekend, but within a few weeks we had new lives and new friends.’

  ‘So Martin started going out with Ruth?’

  ‘Not for a while. There wasn’t much work in Ireland at the time, so we both emigrated. We were living on opposite sides of London for a few years. The next time I saw him was at Ruth’s wedding. I knew immediately that I’d made a mistake, and he’s told me that he knew it too. Their marriage never stood a chance.’

  ‘Your affair started then?’

  Triona put a hand to her throat. ‘You think I’d—no! I didn’t want to be responsible for ruining my sister’s marriage. I went back to work in London. I didn’t even see Martin again until my nephew’s christening. Even when I returned to Ireland full-time, I saw them at most two or three times a year until three years ago. I’m a management consultant, and Ruth asked for my help when she decided to expand her business. That’s when it happened.’

  ‘The affair.’

  ‘Yes. Ruth told me her marriage was a sham and that Martin had been having affairs for years. She was miserable, Martin was miserable, I was miserable. Their family was already destroyed. I figured I couldn’t make things much worse. When Martin made it clear he still had feelings for me, I didn’t put up much of a fight.’

  ‘Did you consider telling Ruth?’

  ‘No. I knew she’d never forgive me and it would cause ructions in the family. My sister hasn’t spoken to me in two years and my parents barely tolerate me. That was the risk I took when we got together, but I’d hoped nobody would ever find out. I’m sorry my family are upset, but I don’t regret my choice. What if Martin had been murdered as well? I’d have wasted all those years.’

  ‘It didn’t bother you that he’d cheated on Ruth?’

  ‘I understood. He wanted something he couldn’t have, so he kept looking for it in the wrong places. It wasn’t easy for him living with a woman he hated.’

  ‘Hated?’

  Triona put her hand to her throat again. ‘I shouldn’t have said that. Martin would never have hurt Ruth. I wouldn’t be with him if I thought that was even a possibility.’

  ‘So what did you mean?’

  ‘Martin and Ruth married for all the wrong reasons. He chose Ruth because she reminded him of me. Ruth chose him because she thought he was the type of man who would take care of her.’

  ‘That’s not Martin?’

  Triona shook her head. ‘Martin needs a woman to make a fuss of him. It’s old-fashioned, I know, but he is who he is. If you love somebody, you have to love them faults and all.’

  ‘Ruth couldn’t do that?’

  ‘As I said, she didn’t know who she was marrying. Martin is a man of great ideas. Ruth bought into them and thought he was going places. When one after another of his businesses failed, she realised he had no idea how to carry out any of his great plans. In desperation she set up a business of her own. The more successful it became, the more she despised Martin.’

  ‘Did Martin despise her?’

  ‘I wouldn’t say he despised her, but you can’t love someone who doesn’t respect you.’

  ‘So why didn’t Martin leave her?’

  ‘He loves his kids.’

  ‘Did he also love Ruth’s money?’

  Triona stood. ‘I think you’d better leave now.’

  THIRTY-ONE

  The following day Aoife phoned Conor and suggested they meet for coffee. ‘How about someplace near your office?’

  ‘I can’t today, Aoife. It’s mayhem here. I don’t have a minute.’

  ‘Tomorrow, then?’

  ‘I wish I could but Katie’s made an appointment for us to go to a photographer. She says we need some family photos. That will take at least an hour. Everyone here is working day and night. It looks really bad if I’m popping out all the time.’

  ‘Friday, then?’

  ‘Would you mind waiting until Sunday? I’ve had to take the afternoon off to drive Katie to the airport. We could drop by for dinner around six.’

  ‘Okay, see you then.’

  *

  ‘Family photos!’

  ‘Blaine is their son, Orla. That makes them a family.’

  ‘Are you, Jason and Amy a family?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Would you put off meeting Conor so you could go to a photographer to have photos taken of the three of you together?’

  ‘I would if that was what Amy wanted.’

  ‘You’re too understanding, Aoife. Remember, that was one of your problems with Jason. You believed everything he told you.’

  ‘Conor is not Jason.’

  ‘I hope you’re right.’

  *

  It was Jason’s weekend with Amy. He had phoned on Friday to say he had to work late and would collect her on Saturday morning. On Saturday he claimed his car had broken down. He would definitely collect Amy on Sunday, he promised. Amy had been upset all weekend. On Sunday she sat staring out the window, hugging Super Girl and stroking her hair. Aoife wanted to strangle Jason. She’d phoned him three times that day and each time his phone had gone to voicemail.

  ‘Let’s go for a walk, Amy.’

  ‘No. I’m waiting for Daddy.’

  Aoife was tempted to say ‘Daddy can wait for you for a change.’ ‘Daddy’s been delayed. If his car is fixed, he’ll collect you this evening. If he doesn’t, you can have dinner with Conor and Blaine.’

  ‘Blainey is coming?’

  ‘He is. But we have time for a quick walk before he gets here.’

  ‘We can’t walk. It’s raining.’

  ‘That’s why we have waterproofs, and if you put on your wellingtons, you can jump in the puddles. But only if you hurry.’

  *

  Their normal walk took twenty-five minutes. Today it took almost double that because Amy had to spend a minimum of five minutes in every single puddle.

  ‘We have to hurry, Amy. If I don’t have time to make dinner, Conor and Blaine will have to eat you.’

  Amy giggled.

  Aoife watched her as she climbed the fence, hands out ready to catch her if she fell.

  Just as Amy’s foot slipped, Aoife felt herself falling. The last thing she heard was Amy’s piercing scream.

  THIRTY-TWO

  A stunned Aoife shook her head to clear the haze. The movement caused a searing pain to shoot through her temple. When she blinked, she could make out the shadow of a man standing over her.

  ‘You bitch! I’ll teach you to call me a thief!’

  ‘Huh?’

  The man’s voice was fading, growing louder and fading again. Aoife’s eyes fluttered.

  ‘Mummy!’

  Aoife tried to stand, but her legs wouldn’t support her body. She put her weight on her hands and rolled to one side. A voice screamed in her ear: ‘How dare you ruin my life!’

  A fist slammed into her head again. Aoife collapsed back on the ground. She twisted her head to look for Amy. The little girl had fallen the last two steps and landed in a heap on the ground. She picked herself up and ran towards the man, shouting, ‘You leave my mummy alone!’

  As Aoife tried to stand, she saw Amy pull at the man’s shirt. The man reached back with one hand and pushed Amy away. He aimed his other hand at Aoife’s face, but she managed to duck. The blow caught her shoulder. Aoife stumbled.

  ‘Stop it!’ Amy wailed.

  As the man raised his fist again, Amy raced over, grabbed his left hand a
nd bit it.

  ‘Ow! Bloody brat!’

  He turned around and, putting both hands on the child’s shoulders, knocked her to the ground.

  Aoife took an unsteady step and flung her entire body weight on the man’s back.

  ‘Leave her alone!’

  The man’s fist connected with Aoife’s nose and she went down a third time. Her face felt like it was on fire. As the haze cleared, she saw Amy get slowly to her feet, ball her tiny hands into fists and run at the man again.

  ‘No, Amy!’ Aoife shouted. ‘Conor! Get Conor!’

  Amy hesitated, then raced towards home, screaming, ‘Moaney! Moaney!’

  Aoife prayed Conor was home by now, but at least Amy was safe. She twisted her head to one side as the man aimed another blow at her head. This time she saw his face. It was Keith.

  *

  It took a few seconds for Aoife to get to her feet again. A punch in the face sent her crashing back to the ground. Her teeth wobbled. It was only a matter of time before Keith did her serious damage. Aoife remembered an article she had read about self-defence. It said if you can’t escape an attacker, roll into the tightest ball possible and protect your head at all costs. Aoife pulled her head into her knees and used her arms to protect it. Keith roared and aimed several kicks at her back. Pain shot through her, but her head was beginning to clear. She heard two pairs of feet running towards her. Conor, thank God!

  But the voice she heard wasn’t Conor’s.

  ‘Get your hands off my wife, you bastard!’

  Jason.

  *

  Keith turned and Aoife took the opportunity to crawl out of his reach. She was on all fours, attempting to raise herself into a standing position, when she felt the boot in her back again. Aoife groaned.

  ‘I’m talking to the police now,’ Jason shouted.

  Keith ignored him. He lifted his foot again and Aoife tensed, waiting for the kick. It never came. There was a whooshing sound, then a howl, and Keith landed on the ground inches from her. Aoife got to her knees. She turned in time to see someone standing over Keith, hurley raised in the air, ready to attack.

  It was the very last person in the world she expected would ever help her.

  THIRTY-THREE

  Blaine swung the hurley again. Keith twisted so he was flat on his back. He put out both arms, grabbed it and pulled Blaine towards him. Blaine was taken off balance and fell. Using the hurley as a crutch, Keith got to his feet and, wielding it in the air, advanced towards Blaine.

  ‘Jason, help him!’

  Jason put his phone back in his pocket. ‘I called the police. They’ll be here any minute.’

  ‘Blaine needs help right now.’

  Jason looked from Blaine to Keith and back to Aoife.

  ‘You’re right. Don’t worry, I’ll get help.’

  Before she could reply, he was running across the field.

  ‘Jason!’

  He didn’t even look back. Within a few seconds he was out of sight.

  Aoife got to her feet and stumbled towards Keith. Keith aimed the hurley at Blaine’s head. My God, he was going to kill him.

  *

  Blaine ducked. Keith had put so much force behind the blow that he stumbled. Aoife saw her opportunity and flung her entire body weight against him. They both landed on the ground and the hurley flew out of Keith’s hand. Aoife rolled off Keith’s body, but he was faster getting to his feet. He reached out for the hurley. His fingers were closing on it when Blaine grabbed it and brought it down on Keith’s arm. Keith swore. He flung himself at Blaine, landing on top of him and bringing them both crashing to the ground. The hurley went flying again, but Keith ignored it. He didn’t need it anymore. The weight of his body kept Blaine pinned to the ground. Keith’s left hand was out of action but his right fist was doing a pretty good job on Blaine’s face. Aoife limped over to the hurley. She picked it up and brought it down on Keith’s back. Keith howled and jumped up. Blaine scrambled to safety. He ran to Aoife, grabbed the hurley from her hand and stood in front of her as Keith charged at them. As the huge, bulky form bore down on them, Aoife muttered, ‘Oh dear God!’

  They didn’t stand a chance.

  *

  Keith had both arms out, ready to grab the hurley, but Blaine surprised him with a jab in the stomach. Keith landed on the ground, flat on his back. Blaine raised the hurley again and brought it crashing down on Keith’s knee. Aoife winced as she heard the crack. Keith screamed.

  *

  They stood looking down on Keith. Blaine held the hurley in both hands, ready to attack. But there was no fight left in Keith. He cradled his knee, screaming in pain. In between his screams, Aoife heard a high-pitched ‘Mummy!’ Amy was a dot in the distance. Aoife closed her eyes in relief when she saw Conor racing towards them.

  THIRTY-FOUR

  Several hours later, Aoife had taken aspirin and was lying on the couch. Every bone in her back ached, and it felt like her face had been broken. It wasn’t, Conor assured her. She needed painkillers and rest and she’d be as right as rain in a few weeks. He gave her an ice pack and found a packet of frozen peas for Blaine.

  Amy lay asleep on the couch beside her. She’d refused to let Aoife out of her sight since they’d got home. Aoife had made a big production of thanking her. ‘You’re such a brave girl. You stopped that bad man from hurting me.’

  She made such a thing of it that Amy gradually stopped crying and began to think of herself as Super Girl who could defend the entire family all by herself. Maybe Aoife had gone a bit overboard, but it was better than having Amy cowering in a corner, terrified of every stranger she met.

  The real hero, of course, was Blaine. Aoife had tried to thank him, but he’d muttered something, blushed red and left the room. Conor was practically bursting with pride. He’d hugged Blaine. Aoife didn’t hear what he said, but there was no mistaking the glow in his eyes every time he looked at his son.

  Jason told everybody how lucky they were that he was there to help. Everybody but Amy ignored him. ‘My daddy got help too,’ she said. ‘Just like me.’

  Jason had the grace to look uncomfortable. Shortly afterwards he left.

  *

  ‘Oh my God! Aoife. Are you okay?’

  Aoife winced as she felt the pull on her shoulder. She switched the phone to speaker.

  ‘Everything aches, Orla but I’ll be fine.’

  ‘Was Keith arrested?’

  ‘Yes. Jason called the police, and a few minutes later the neighbours phoned them as well.’

  ‘The neighbours saw what happened?’

  ‘No. Carly’s mum heard Amy screaming, so she ran around to see what was happening. She kept Amy with her while Blaine and Jason looked for me.’

  ‘Where was Conor?’

  ‘Traffic from the airport was quite light, so they arrived shortly after Amy and I left. They took out the hurleys and were working on Blaine’s shots while they waited. When it got late, Conor went off to pick up a takeaway. Blaine was still practising when Jason arrived. A few minutes later, Amy came screaming that a bad man was hurting me.’

  ‘You were so lucky Blaine was there to help.’

  ‘I know. He’s such a brave kid. That bastard could have killed him. I tell you I had nightmares all night about Keith aiming the hurley at Blaine’s head. It’s a miracle he’s not dead.’

  ‘Chip off the old block?’

  ‘Definitely.’

  ‘Are you friends now? Is Blaine talking to you?’

  ‘He’s not talking much at all. Conor can’t figure out what’s wrong with him.’

  *

  Aoife called work and said she wasn’t feeling well. She didn’t know how they would react to her swollen and bruised face, but she wasn’t in the mood to cope with their questions. She spent the best part of two days lying on the couch watching Netflix while Amy sat on the floor beside her, eyes glued to the iPad.

  On the third day, Aoife decided it was time they got back to normal. Amy sulked because
she wasn’t allowed the iPad, but she soon settled down and Aoife tackled her growing pile of ironing. Twenty minutes later, she realised the house was too quiet and went in search of Amy. She found her crouched behind the sofa, jabbing at the iPad.

  ‘Amy! Where did you get that?’

  A wide-eyed Amy replied, ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘You don’t know? Give it to me, please.’

  She went to switch it off and realised the iPad didn’t belong to her.

  ‘Is this Blaine’s?’

  Amy shrugged.

  ‘You are not allowed touch the iPad unless I give it to you, and you are not ever allowed to touch Blaine’s things. Are you listening to me?’

  Tears sprang into Amy’s eyes and she ran out of the room.

  Aoife looked at the photo Amy had been examining: Katie, Conor and Blaine. They seemed happy. Blissfully happy actually, like the family photos you see in adverts. Conor’s arm was around Katie’s waist and she smiled up at him. Good God! Aoife flicked through photo after photo of her partner and his perfect family. She gritted her teeth. Katie was slim and beautiful with that sun-kissed look no Irish person could ever achieve. Conor appeared to be the proud family man and Blaine was happy and relaxed. Several of the photos were taken in Stephen’s Green. In one, Katie was waving a hurley in the air while her son and his father cheered. Aoife snorted. As if Katie knew about hurling! Conor had told her that Katie hadn’t even known what a hurley was until Blaine asked for one as a birthday present. When their local sports shop didn’t sell any, she had bought him a hockey stick, thinking it would be a suitable alternative. Aoife flicked to the next photo and froze.