Julia could not sleep, she dared not pull her hand back for fear of waking Sophia and this all felt so strange. She had never in all these years of marriage slept on this side of the bed. The dim shapes in the dark bedroom looked different from this angle, it made her feel disoriented. The last time she had shared a bed with a female friend was in her days at college where she had once gone backpacking with three other female friends and due to their tight budget restrictions they had slept in a double room: two per single bed. This too had initially been awkward but had led to many laughs and giggles; it was something crazy only attributable to the madness that youth brings with it. They had spent the holiday with stiff necks and were tired from the lack of sleep, but it was all part of the adventure. This was a world apart. This had resulted from sadness and it would surely lead to more sadness. It would be a night she would never forget, a night that would remain etched in her memory for years to come. It was a night of truth, realisation, pain and fear. A night where beauty had turned into horror, the real had changed into the surreal, innocence had converted into experience. It was a night where the natural laws had been broken, the beast had been unleashed and the tame and controlled was now dangerous and sinister. Evil had seeped into goodness and tainted what was there.
Julia lay there listening to Sophia’s breathing and to the wet clothes downstairs rhythmically going round and round. She heard the clinking of the milkman delivering the milk in his quiet electric van. She heard the mail-boy delivering the morning’s paper and the splashes of rain water. She realised that as predicted the wind and the rain were dying down. The thunder had now stopped completely and the rain was only a light drizzle pattering in a musical manner on her bedroom windows. The first rays of light were seeping in through the half closed blinds and the day began to open up like a flower opening up its frail petals. Julia had not managed to sleep at all. Her mind was loaded with so many thoughts about the nights’ frightful events. She was also thinking of how the day would proceed. She did not want the children to see Sophia like this, it would surely leave an impression upon them and they would start asking so many questions, especially Laura, and even worse, they would tell Ben. What would he think? Would he get angry that she hadn’t informed him about what had happened and that she hadn’t called the police? The last thing she wanted was a lecture on what she should and shouldn’t have done. She knew it would be well-intended but the horror of what had happened was so fresh in her memories that she couldn’t bear to talk about it to anyone else. She wanted to keep what had happened hidden just as it seemed Sophia was planning on doing.
She couldn’t lie still in bed any longer she needed to do something to occupy her body so that her mind would put off thinking about the night’s events. She drew back the quilt and carefully crept out of bed replacing the quilt back and pulling it well over the sleeping Sophia. Sophia just stirred slightly and carried on sleeping. Her hair was covering most of her face and like this she could have been the most perfect cherub sleeping soundly on a heavenly cloud. She slipped on her slippers and crept downstairs avoiding the well-known creaks on the stairs. In the kitchen she took out Sophia’s clothes from the washing machine and placed them in the tumble dryer. Julia was sure that they were most likely clothes that should not be put in a tumble dryer, but she also knew that they were clothes that Sophia might need to wear now and will probably not want to wear again. She had no idea of how long Sophia needed to stay with her and the last thing that Julia wanted was to have Ben arrive home and find Sophia lying on his sofa in his wife’s clothes. Julia pictured this clearly in her mind and felt guilty at the thought that her clothes as always would fit so much better on Sophia. Sophia looked better in everything. Her everyday jeans and oversized sweater could be made to look sexy on Sophia’s long, slim legs and perky bosom. Julia brushed these thoughts away with a twinge of guilt. How could she be thinking this when the Sophia she knew, her Sophia, was now so grossly disfigured? She still couldn’t quite bring herself to face the reality that the woman in her bed was the once so beautiful Sophia. Julia had once read about a famous artist whose painting of his muse was so beautiful and lifelike that in a fit of jealous rage he had set fire to the painting to ensure that no one would ever glance at his muse as he had so accurately depicted her. The beautiful swan was now the cygnet. The natural order of things had been reversed.
Julia opened the kitchen windows to allow the fresh air to enter the kitchen. It was a clean, fresh air. A slight breeze toyed with the curtains so that they fluttered slightly. It was ever so slight, the breeze which brought in the first changes. It was the breeze that was to become a cyclone of change.
She threw out yesterday’s coffee and brewed some fresh. The scent of coffee filled her nostrils and this scent, together with the smell of damp soil from the garden, reassured Julia of the normality of things around her. They would sort this mess out together. Sophia would get better. She would spend Christmas with her family. Yes, these were the things she must focus on. She remembered the calm words of her mid-wife during her second birth which had been particularly difficult ’Julia you can do it’ ‘You can do it’; over and over again so that they had seemed to take on a life of their own and in those moments of unbearable pain, a pain so immense that it filled every pore of her body and caused her to rant and rave like a lunatic she remembered picturing these words in large bold letters as if on some magical floating banner, and every time she reached out to grasp the banner it would mysteriously move just that little further back so that Julia’s arm just reached out into the blackness. Maybe it was just the pain that had caused her to imagine this or maybe the drugs she had taken, or possibly even both. It had seemed so real at that time, even more so than Ben sitting down beside her helplessly holding her sweaty hand or the bossy mid-wife who had believed she was in control of things. Her body had kept on pushing and pushing and pushing, but her mind had for just a brief instance separated itself. She imagined this was what a near-death experience felt like. This was one of the many things she had not revealed to anyone, not even to her patient Ben who was always so ready to listen. She had been too scared that he would dismiss it as a mere fantasy when it had been so real to her. She had of course not mentioned it to the medical staff either; she did not want to be labelled as some depressive or psychotic mum.
Julia wasn’t much of a morning person and despite knowing she shouldn’t, she always skipped breakfast, her breakfast consisting of copious amounts of coffee. However, she had promised the children that she would prepare pancakes for breakfast. A special treat since it was Christmas Eve, so she half-heartedly went through the actions to prepare their breakfast. She felt like the protagonist of some weird, black humour drama. The ideal wife; picture perfect in her tidy home preparing breakfast like some regular mum, whilst a zombie slept in her bed upstairs. The situation felt so surreal. She still hadn’t figured out what to tell the kids, so her weak plan was to attempt to hide Sophia from the kids and she had a trump card to play. She would let them watch telly in the morning with the excuse that it was Christmas Eve. The forbidding of watching telly in the mornings was one of the household’s most sacred commandments and was only ever broken if the children were ill at home or, as was this case, on a very special occasion. It will at least keep them confined to the living room till she thought of a better plan. Her plan was aided by the fact the all three children, having slept relatively early woke up before Sophia did. She could hear the children as they changed into their clothes and brushed their teeth. Andrew came down first, dressed in his casual tracksuit trousers and a comfy knitted sweater. He was wearing his character slippers and his face still carried traces of last night’s sleep. He was thrilled when he saw the counter laden with pancakes and stood on the kitchen stool to rummage in the top cupboards for maple syrup and peanut butter. Andrew was already halfway through his first pancake when Emma walked in. She was as tall as Julia’s shoulders but far slimmer with thick golden hair which now fell just below he
r shoulders. She had kept her hair long ever since she had started ballet classes at the age of five requiring her to keep her hair in a tight ballet bun for the lessons.
Julia prepared their hot chocolate in the microwave with three heaped teaspoons of hot chocolate, just as they liked it. The children were really excited about Christmas Eve. They talked about the presents they were expecting to receive from her and Ben and what they would find in their stocking from Santa. Emma had stopped believing in Santa for a good number of years now however, she was adamant that she had to join in to hang her stocking and receive presents from Santa. Andrew was becoming rather sceptical about it too; however, he still wasn’t completely convinced about Santa’s nonexistence. Laura of course was a firm believer, one of his most die-hard fans. Laura firmly believed in Santa, together with the tooth-fairy and the elves and fairies that lived under the wild mushrooms just below their garden wall. Laura was the last to join them but when she did the noise level in the room increased ten-fold. She was a can of explosive energy, full of contagious excitement. Julia used to call her a jumping jelly-bean. She had nick-names for all three kids. Emma was her princess, for short she often called her Em, Andrew her super-hero, which had been shortened to Drew and Laura, her baby forever, to Lor.
The bedroom door upstairs was firmly shut, just as Julia had left it, and she now rushed to close the kitchen door, so that their loud chatter would not seep out of the kitchen and upstairs to the bedroom door. The children were devouring the pancakes which were now loaded with glittering syrup and crunchy peanut butter. They were each a calorific bomb loaded with hundreds of calories, the exact food that only children should ever eat. Julia tried to speed up their breakfast but the children were totally oblivious to her hints and suggestions. In the end she told them that as a special treat they could finish their pancakes in front of the telly. The children squealed with delight. As an afterthought, she told them not to disturb her for the time being as she urgently needed to purchase some last minute items online. She avoided their excited faces as she successfully presented this lie. Their childhood innocence made them so gullible. She must also put this on her list of New Year’s Resolutions, as these lies were really beginning to get out of control.
She took Sophia’s clothes from the tumble dryer. The clothes smelt strongly of fabric softener. She took them upstairs and placed them quietly on the bed and then went downstairs. She had hid Sophia’s coat in the closet under the stairs, however, she couldn’t leave it there as it was easy to spot. In the end she placed it in a large black garbage bag and stuffed it into the broom cupboard. The coat was completely ruined and no amount of dry cleaning would wash out the blood stains: she would have to give Sophia one of her jackets to leave the house.
Julia had just finished washing up the breakfast plates when Sophia came in. She was wearing the clothes Julia had left on the bed. The clothes she had arrived in now washed and dry. The clean clothes and her now clean hair did make her seem much better than last night. The clothes covered all of Sophia’s bruises except the scratches on her hands and the large gash on her forehead. She looked so much better without all that make-up trickling down her cheeks, however, now in the light of day she looked extremely pale. Sophia’s skin had always been pale but now it looked as if all the blood had been drained out of her. The skin on her face and hands was so white that it was almost translucent. The blue veins on her wrists in sharp contrast to the whiteness that surrounded them. The red scratches were even redder in the whiteness in which they had been made. Sophia’s eyes were also more bearable to look at. The glassiness of yesterday had now gone and although they still looked slightly unfocused they were so much better, despite being supported by huge black bags.
Julia was once again at a loss for words, she felt tears brimming in her eyes and looked away trying to fight the urge to break down and cry. She must be strong; she must be there for Sophia. This was not her act to play but Sophia’s. She was the supporting actor whose role was as a right-hand bodyguard to protect Sophia.
It was Sophia who finally broke the silence. The sparse words she uttered spoke volumes. She told Julia that she must never talk to anyone about what happened; this was going to be their secret. Julia was incredulous she had so many questions. What did she mean by not telling anyone? Did she mean not even the police? Did she mean not even Ben? Could she ask her to hide this from Ben? Even more importantly were the multitudinous questions about what the secret really was? Julia was bursting with questions to find out what happened. Will she kick out Julian her partner? Or had he already moved out? How had she arrived to her house, had she walked all the way from her house to Julia’s: it was over six miles and in those terrible weather conditions with her high boots on the slippery wet roads it would have taken her hours? Why hadn’t she phoned Julia to come and collect her? Why had Sophia left her home? Was it because of Julian? Was it because she feared he was still there? Julia could only guess at possible answers as it was evident that Sophia did not want to discuss what happened. She was clearly still under a severe shock.
Julia’s first reaction was to try and dissuade Sophia. How could she not talk about what happened? This was too great a secret to bury; however, it was evident that Sophia would not budge on her decision. The conversation had turned into a monologue from Julia’s side with Sophia looking at her frostily like some regal ice sculpture which would not thaw. Julia was now far more comfortable and was no longer afraid that the children might overhear the conversation. If any of them did or happened to pop back into the kitchen for a glass of milk she would tell them that Sophia had just dropped by. It was yet another lie in the unending web of lies. It was something that Sophia had done in the past and so had a degree of credibility to it.
Julia knew that she was losing the argument; whatever had happened had caused Sophia to clam up about it, she would not budge an inch and did not reveal any other details of what might have occurred. Julia offered her one of the pancakes and Sophia nibbled at it daintily as if she were eating some exotic delicacy. She had never appeared so vulnerable as she did on that Christmas Eve sitting in Julia’s kitchen with an incredible air of sadness. The way her shoulders were hunched, the sideways glance she stole in Julia’s direction and her monotone sentences were the words of a person who had experienced a great defeat. It was as if whatever had happened last night had sucked out all the life from Sophia, all her energy, her vitality, her joie-de-vivre. The Sophia sitting in her kitchen was the shadow of the Sophia she had known.
The atmosphere in the kitchen was tense, there was so much which was left unsaid and the air was heavy with unanswered questions. Julia asked Sophia what she planned to do and Sophia replied softly that she just needed to go back home and rest to recover from the ordeal. This convinced Julia that whatever had happened meant that Sophia did not expect Julian to be there. Perhaps he had walked out during her fight or promised her that he would be packing his bags that same night. Had he slammed down the house keys in anger or thrown them at Sophia? The violence of what had happened could only be guessed at. Julia feared that the worse that she was imagining could still be miles off from the truth of what happened. Julia felt exhausted and nauseous thinking about it. She wanted to run away from Sophia and bury her head on her mother’s lap as she had done so many times as a child. She wanted to throw back the responsibility she was being asked to face and pass it on to someone else like some unwanted game of pass the parcel. However, she knew that this was something she could never do. Sophia had asked her for one thing and she must keep her promise of keeping last night’s event a secret. She would not find it difficult to keep this from the trickle of friends she had as most of them were mums she met on the school rounds and their topics of conversations were restricted to school homework, extra-curriculum activities, children’s activities and school social events. She had another circle of friends from her own school years. She had kept in contact with this group of friends but this contact had decreased considerab
ly in the recent months and her relationship with Sophia had taken precedence. She would not have any trouble hiding this from her parents as she had never revealed the extent of her relationship with Sophia. The kids too she could handle and the least she mentioned Sophia the more they tended to forget her so they would not pose a problem. Ben however, was another story. She would need to be extremely careful not to let anything slip. It was going to be hard work to cover up any traces of what had happened and make sure that she did not accidently mention anything in front of him.
Julia was relieved when Sophia finished her breakfast and made it clear that she was preparing to leave. She was bent down trying to put on her high boots. The boots were still wet, although Julia had previously stuffed in an abundance of newspapers to soak up the water. As she stood up and walked over to Julia, the shoes squeaked. Sophia held Julia’s hands together as if she were a young child and just looked at Julia. She did not need to say anything, that look said it all. It was her thanks for what Julia had done, for what Julia was agreeing to do in keeping this secret and for all that Julia would have to do to keep that secret safe. Julia felt that bond between them sizzle back to life as if that cold touch was some electric current. A surge deep right into Julia’s heart like some electric shock.
Julia's Secret Page 7
