The Wife Before Me(80)
Forty-Four
Elena arrives at the community centre early. Sophie makes coffee and polite conversation. It’s Yvonne’s bridge morning, so Henry will bring the children today. Usually, their grandmother takes them as far as the entrance and hands them over to Sophie but today, Henry comes straight into the room where Elena is waiting. He is carrying Joel but Grace has already let his hand go and is running towards Elena’s open arms. When she sees her mother’s face she falters and begins to cry. The bruises are livid, a palette of violence, and scabs have formed on her skin where it was torn by the brickwork.
‘Sweet Jesus, what happened to you?’ Henry stops, shocked by her appearance and obviously unable to hide his apprehension in case she screams Your son did this to me.
‘I fell on the steps coming out of work.’ If she repeats this lie often enough she might begin to believe it herself. Billy Tobin is the spectre that keeps her silent. So far, she has heard nothing from the police. That can mean only one thing: Nicholas has not reported her visit to Billy. Instead of relief, she feels a growing agitation that eases only when it is announced on the evening news that a young man has been taken in for questioning. Perhaps she was wrong about Nicholas and he is simply trying to torment her. But her relief is short-lived: the suspect is released without charge the following day. A garda statement claims the police are following a definite line of enquiry. Every time the phone rings or someone knocks on Rosemary’s door, she trembles. As always, Nicholas has her where he wants her, helpless and at his mercy.
‘I’ll collect the children in an hour.’ Henry averts his eyes from her face. ‘Joel may be difficult.’ He speaks directly to the social worker. ‘He’s cutting another tooth.’
Joel crawls to the box of toys and flings them to the floor. She has applied to the courts for longer hours and is waiting on a date for a new hearing. She longs for those visits, yet when they are over she feels no sense of fulfilment and is conscious only of relief. A relief that used to overcome her when she had undergone a difficult test and passed it. The hour she spends with them twice a week is too short. Grace and Joel have only just begun to relax when their visit is over. She is running out of things to say to them. This frightens her. Is it so easy to break the maternal bond or are words hard to find in such an unnatural environment? She must depend on touch to break down the barriers that keep her and her children apart. She holds Grace to her, strokes her hair, kisses her face. She hunkers beside Joel, who has pulled himself upright and is clinging to the side of the toybox. As she reaches towards him, he lets go and takes a step, then another. A beatific smile spreads across his face as he manages another one before falling into her arms.
‘Those were his first steps.’ Henry’s delight is evident when he comes back at the end of visiting time and hears the news from Sophie.
‘I’m so pleased he took them when he was with you,’ he says to Elena and walks away before she can reply.
* * *
The pain in Elena’s arm awakens her at two o’clock in the morning. When she switches on the light she is confronted as usual by the life-sized poster of a rugby player. This bedroom belongs to Rosemary’s son, who used to be play for his local football club before he moved to Brussels. The bedroom is crammed with medals and trophies, triumphant photographs, and framed jerseys scrawled with signatures. She feels as if she is sleeping in a stadium but is reluctant to change anything. Staying with Rosemary is a stopgap until she gains custody of her children and life can begin again. Illusion and hopelessness dominate the small hours when reality lies down and plays dead.
The venom in Nicholas’s voice when he called John Pierce a paedophile was unmistakable. What secrets had Amelia carried with her into the depths? Would Elena ever be able to decipher them when all she had was a grubby envelope with a faded postmark?
She goes downstairs in search of ice and painkillers. Sally, Rosemary’s cat, winds around her legs and laps gratefully at the milk Elena pours into her bowl, an unexpected treat. She mews to go outside. Elena stands in the open doorway. A full moon hangs heavy in the black sky. She imagines craters and soundless depths, an abiding calm. If only she could instil some of that quietude in her mind and stop it racing from one catastrophic scenario to another. Had Billy confronted Nicholas without realising the fury he would unleash? Or had he decided it was preferable to name the truth rather than carry it to his grave?
A rustle in the bushes startles her. It’s probably a hedgehog or some other nocturnal creature foraging, yet she feels the darting fear that she so often experiences these days and nights. She calls the cat in and locks the back door behind them.
The ice pack hurts her skin but the painkillers are taking effect. She is sleepy yet returning to bed is a useless exercise.
* * *
‘I thought I heard you moving about.’ Rosemary enters the kitchen in her dressing gown and sits down beside her. ‘Is the pain keeping you awake?’
‘It woke me up and I couldn’t settle again.’ Elena adjusts the ice pack.
‘Is the poltergeist on your mind?’ Rosemary’s smile is grim. The inspector from the gas board was unable to find any trace of a gas leak and the explosion in the office remains a mystery. Unaware that her sarcasm could carry a grain of truth, Rosemary suggested that the damage must have been caused by a ghost.