Her One Mistake(58)
No, that wasn’t it.
At first I was afraid I didn’t believe myself, and then I was afraid I would lose her. But I was also scared of what would happen, how far he would go. He had dispensed of Jane easily because I’d let him. He had moved our whole life because of Tina, but with Charlotte I couldn’t take the risk, because I had Alice to think of too.
Wednesday, October 5, 2016
Brian told the doctor today that I am getting worse. He said that when he came home he found out I’d locked myself in a cupboard for most of the afternoon. He raised his eyebrows as if this were typical of me.
The doctor looked at me under his bushy eyebrows. I might have mentioned my fear of small spaces once. He asked me how I’d coped.
Brian butted in, saying he felt so sorry for me as I was claustrophobic. He added that I can’t even lock bathroom doors and told the doctor that I’d once made him walk up thirteen flights of stairs because I wouldn’t get in the elevator.
The doctor just nodded and asked if Alice was with me, but I still didn’t get a chance to answer. Brian said she was as he shook his head, calling her a little mite and saying that she must’ve been going out of her mind. Then he said that he’d explicitly told me yesterday morning not to go anywhere near the cupboard because the lock was faulty. Apparently this is what worries Brian—that he tells me things and I don’t remember.
I closed my eyes but I didn’t speak.
The doctor said my name, waiting for my side of the story, but what was the point? Brian would only contradict me. In the end I told him I couldn’t remember. But I can. I remember all of it: I woke, relieved when I realized Brian had left the house already, because I could start my day without having to look at my husband. Never mind it was raining heavily outside, Alice and I would stay in and watch TV and play games.
Alice was looking for something when I found her in the living room. Her toys were scattered over the floor and I remember thinking I’d have to tidy them before Brian came home.
Alice said she couldn’t find the game with rockets—the one with the aliens and spaceships—and we looked through her toys together but couldn’t find it. In fact, none of her board games were there, which was odd.
As I’m now in the habit of checking everything with Alice, I asked if we’d moved it, but she shook her head. I didn’t think we had, and we’d even played it the day before. Alice pointed to one of the plastic crates and said she’d put the game back in there.
The only other place I could think it might be was the downstairs cupboard, which we rarely use, but it’s the only place to store anything in this small house. I held the door open with my foot and pulled the light cord, but the light didn’t come on. The box of spare bulbs was at the back of the cupboard so I squinted in the darkness until I just about made out a stack of board games shoved onto a shelf at the far end. Edging closer, my heel still against the door, I leaned in to grab it but couldn’t quite reach. I shuffled a little more, and as I touched the box my foot slipped and I fell forward while the door slammed shut behind me.
I screamed out in the pitch-black. But with one hand on the game, I straightened and felt my way back to the door. It wouldn’t open. I shoved at it, pushing as hard as I could, but the door remained jammed. My heart hammered as I shoved and shoved, banging on the door, though what use was that when it was only Alice and me in the house?
I heard her whimper on the other side of the door. She was asking where I was.
I called out that I was stuck in the cupboard, trying my best to keep the fear from seeping out through my words, but I was scared stiff. I asked Alice to try pulling the door from the outside and felt it give a little as she did, but still it didn’t open.
I told her to turn the handle, but Alice started crying. I said everything would be fine and got her to stand back, then I shoved against the door with everything I had, but still it wouldn’t move.
She needed to ask for help. This was a big thing for Alice—she’d have to go into the backyard and climb onto her flowerpot and lean over the fence to Mr. Potter’s house. I knew she was scared, but I told her she had to be a big brave girl and go and see if she could get his attention.
Mr. Potter ended up climbing over the fence to come into the house with Alice. When he pulled and twisted the handle and eventually got me out of the cupboard, I sank into his chest and sobbed, pulling Alice toward me too.
He asked how long I’d been in there for. It felt like hours.
He started pulling on the handle and told me the lock was jammed, and then the whole thing came off in his hand. We agreed it was lucky that didn’t happen a minute ago, because I would have been in there a lot longer.
Before he went I asked him if he could wait while I got the spare lightbulbs. I said the one in there must have blown already. But then Mr. Potter nodded at the ceiling and pointed out that there wasn’t even one in there.
Except I know I changed it just a few days ago.
BEFORE
HARRIET
I didn’t understand until last November, six months before the fair, just how deeply Brian had me under his control, but I also knew there was little I could do about it. Not if I wanted any chance of keeping Alice.
One morning last autumn I took Alice to the park in Chiddenford in a haze of despair. He had fooled everyone. Mostly me, but he’d managed to drag everyone else into his version of reality too. What chance did I, the crazy wife who put their child in danger, stand against him? Who would believe me if I told them my truth?