Broken (33 page)

‘Okay', said Courtney agreeably as her brother nodded.

Mattie grinned at them. Then she went through into the kitchen and put the kettle on. While she waited for it to boil, she ran her fingers gently through her hair and freed the loose strands, putting them in the rubbish bin. At this rate, she thought grimly, she'd have to get a wig soon. Next she gingerly checked her scalp for any tears in the flesh itself.
The pain had been so intense, and the throbbing was still so severe, that she felt sure something must be there to show for it. But she could find no abrasions and, when she brought her hand down, it was free of blood. So there was no visible damage.

Mattie took a couple of painkillers and then leant against the kitchen cupboards, trying to get her head around what had just happened. But she couldn't. It wasn't so much the violence, although the cycle itself seemed to have escalated frighteningly, but the fact that Jake had been going to take the children with him. By force if necessary. And if it hadn't been for the police, it would have happened.

She knew that it was naive of her to be shocked by this, but she was. Shocked, and deeply angry. But she also knew this didn't stem from surprise at his actions but because those actions had so clearly exposed her vulnerability.
That
was terrifying. Infuriating. And she wasn't at all sure she had done the right thing by not involving the police. It had been a self-protective instinct but one that left her with some unease.

Mattie looked out through the window at the rapidly darkening backyard. It was hard to believe that not long ago she'd stood here looking at the rain-washed shrubbery and thinking everything could be rinsed away. A clean slate. Game com-
plete
, be-
gin again
. But instead of the game being over, it seemed all that had happened was that the rules had changed. And now they were being played out on a totally new level.

 

F
or a man, Jake had a strong nurturing streak. Once, the day after a particularly nasty fight, he had even made up a bed on the couch for Mattie. Covered her with blankets, brought her cups of tea, kept the children amused. In the evening, he sat stroking her hair and, at one stage, she glanced up quickly and caught him staring at her with the most amazingly gentle, almost wistful expression
.

She liked to think that this expression was born of regret, of selfloathing, for what he had put her through. But she couldn't ask him, because the subject was taboo. He would be willing to do almost anything for her during the conciliatory period except talk about what happened. So she had to use her imagination to fill the gaps, and her imagination was born of a hundred fairytales, and romance books, and women's magazines. It told her that true love was all-conquering and there was always an answer, if only she did not give up. On him. On them
.

At other times, when he was not quite so cherishing or the pain was really severe, she allowed resentment to guide her thoughts. Then she would suspect that her imagination was doing her more harm than good, and that she was projecting positive emotions onto Jake that he did not really possess. In her weaker moments, when she started thinking this way, she would even start to imagine that Jake enjoyed it all. The violence because it made him feel powerful, and the nurturing because it made him feel like her saviour. And it was only his own inherent narcissism that sheltered him from the irony that what she really needed to be saved from, to be protected from, was Jake himself
.

T
he next four days were the slowest that Mattie had ever experienced in her life. They dragged more than they had when, as a child, something special was going to happen, and the days and hours and minutes leading up to it tiptoed past with a sluggishness that drove her to a hyperactive frustration. But now it wasn't so much that she was looking forward to something, apart from the return of Max and Courtney, but that she was consumed with concern for them, and what was happening at the house.

Because of this concern, Mattie had spent a good part of Thursday composing a message to leave on Jake's answering machine, so that he would get it when he returned from work that day. Then, in a voice that she tried to keep as expressionless as possible, she read into the phone from her notes: ‘Hi, Jake, this is Mattie. First, I would like to tell you that I
didn't
tell Hannah. My next-door neighbour did, after she heard us on Sunday night. But the real reason for my call is that I am very concerned that the children are getting dragged into this. Any problems we have are between you and me, not them. So surely we can both be adults and discuss our situation rationally, and keep them out of it. If we can at least agree on one thing, let's make it that their welfare comes first. Thank you.'

After she hung up, it suddenly occurred to Mattie that Jake might think
she
was collecting the kids today and taking them to his place. After all they had never formally changed plans. This possibility
worried at her all afternoon, until she finally gave in and rang Jake on his mobile. The conversation was short and terse and finished with Jake hanging up on her in the middle of her garbled explanation. Then, after she'd calmed down somewhat, she realised that he would probably think she'd left the answering machine message
after
this last phonecall, and that she was having a deliberate dig at his attitude. This made her feel ill again, and she spent an hour walking through the unit with her fists clenched, trying to think of ways to improve matters. But there were none.

To make herself feel better, she tried to blame Hannah – if she hadn't taken it upon herself to call Jake, none of this would have happened. But deep down she knew that Hannah's call had not
caused
the inferno, all it had done was fuel the flames. Certainly Hannah was guilty of thinking she knew best, but her actions had arisen from concern and from an impotency that Mattie understood only too well. So although she didn't call Hannah, she gradually ceased to see her sister's actions as a betrayal and instead began to use them to give her a sense of solidarity. But although this approach lessened her feeling of isolation, it did not diminish the horribly powerless feeling she carried with her as she waited till Sunday, to see what would happen next, with the days stretching out before her like a prison sentence.

So she began following through on her ‘to do' list as much as a defence against this frustration as a genuine desire to get the ball rolling. She started with the Internet, and spent a large part of Friday ensconced in a small cubicle at the local library facing a computer screen. She discovered that custody and access were no longer called that, but were now known as residence and contact. She also found out that they were laid out in what were called ‘parenting orders', which separating couples could write up themselves and then have formalised by the courts. Mattie hoped fervently that it wouldn't come to that; instead, after he had accepted the fact that it was over, Jake would agree to continue following the shared care arrangement they had already established.

She visited a couple of sites where separated couples aired their issues and problems that arose as time went by. There were some triumphant stories, but the vast majority were terribly sad considering these had
once been committed families that were now imploding. Others were nothing short of tragic: people spoke of vendettas carried out against them, of petty revenge, and of a life led amidst bitterness and spite. By using keywords related to separation and child contact, Mattie ended up in a few men's group sites, where the level of nastiness rose so much that she exited quickly and remained in the mainstream. That was depressing enough.

Last of all she explored property splits and this area, too, seemed to be a minefield of recriminations. Finally, she left the personal accounts behind and just tried to get the facts. And they didn't bode too well. Property settlement, it appeared, could drag on for a long time. The push was for both parties to agree without going to court, which seemed reasonable, but Mattie was doubtful about her ability to negotiate with Jake from a position of strength. However, what concerned her most was the minor property – furniture, personal effects and suchlike. While the courts could easily track the sale of a house, for instance, it would be more difficult to trace the other items. And she had left an entire house full of them behind. Would she ever see her share?

By the time Mattie left the library, her neck and back aching from sitting so long, it was too late to go to the bank and get some information on withdrawing the term deposit early. So she walked home slowly, taking the time to think about what she had discovered and what her next steps should be. She was just beginning a mental list of household effects when she turned into her road and saw Hannah's car parked outside the unit. Mattie stepped up her pace and turned into the driveway just as Hannah was coming away from the front door, looking rather concerned. Her face cleared when she saw her sister.

‘There
you are. I saw your car in the driveway and couldn't work out what'd happened to you!'

‘Just gone for a walk.' Mattie looked at her sister curiously. ‘Hey you were really worried, weren't you?'

‘Of course I was!' said Hannah crossly as she followed Mattie onto the porch.

Mattie unlocked the door and opened it for Hannah to go through
first. ‘He's not going to do away with me and bury my body in the linen closet, you know.'

‘Don't bet on it,' replied Hannah grimly, walking straight into the kitchen and sitting down in the same seat she'd occupied on Wednesday.

‘Cup of tea?'

‘No, I haven't got time. But a glass of water would be nice.'

Mattie filled a glass from the water jug in the fridge. She passed it to Hannah before sitting down and watching her sister with interest. She couldn't remember Hannah paying so much attention to her since, as a teenager, she was paid to babysit. It was an odd feeling to be looked after again, at her age, but not entirely unpleasant. She suspected Hannah had even dressed down today, just in case Mattie was wearing her old grey tracksuit again. But now the roles were reversed. Mattie was looking quite smart, in low-heeled sandals, black pinstripe pants and a fitted white shirt, while Hannah was wearing runners, black tracksuit pants and a sleeveless lemon windcheater vest with a hood. Her long hair was caught up in a ponytail.

‘Have I smeared my mascara or something?' asked Hannah, frowning slightly at the attention.

‘No,' Mattie smiled.

‘So where have you been?' asked Hannah suspiciously.

‘Researching actually. They say knowledge is power, so I'm going to get powerful.'

‘What sort of research?'

‘Divorce, child residence, property. All that sort of stuff.'

‘So you're going through with it?'

‘Yes.'

‘Thank god!' Hannah sat back in her chair and stared at her sister with relief. ‘You don't know how worried I've been. See, I did my own bit of research and discovered most women in your situation go back and back and back. And that they even tend to cut off those who know about what's happening. Mainly because of what you said – that it's embarrassing. Shameful.'

‘Yeah, but don't forget I've already been back and back and back.'

‘You mean more than just that time you stayed at Mum's?'

Mattie nodded grimly. ‘I like to think that this time I'd have made it permanent even if you hadn't found out, but I can't swear to it. Sooner or later, though, I think I would have.'

‘So I made a difference?'

‘Absolutely.' Mattie smiled at her sister. ‘You were like the straw that broke the camel's back. Hilda next door made a difference, but not a major one. You're family. And I suppose that was just enough to tip me totally. You know what it was? Not your threats or anything like that. It was seeing the look on your face when you found out.'

‘I was gobsmacked.'

‘Yes. And, well, when you live with it you sort of normalise it so when you see someone with a
real
response – horror, shock and all that – it's like seeing it clearly.'

‘Seeing it through someone else's eyes.'

‘That's right.'

‘I didn't tell Stuart.' Hannah rolled her eyes. ‘Although, boy, was it tempting. And I still think we should.'

‘You promised.' Mattie looked at her evenly. ‘Besides, you already did enough damage ringing Jake. I
asked
you not to. So why'd you do that?'

‘Did I do damage?' Hannah looked upset. ‘Did I really? But I just had to do
something
. And he had it coming!'

‘He might have had it coming but I didn't.' Mattie grimaced and swallowed a surge of annoyance that Hannah just didn't understand. ‘All it meant was that he marched straight around here and did a lot of yelling and screaming.'

Hannah's eyes widened. ‘Did he hurt you?'

‘Oh no.' Mattie shook her head. Even though it was tempting to tell Hannah about the consequences of her phone-call and emphasise her ignorance, Mattie had already decided that would be counterproductive. She was dealing with it and there was a fair chance that things would quickly settle anyway. ‘Nothing like that. It's just I wanted to have a discussion with him and there'll be no chance of that for a few days now. Till he calms down.'

‘Sorry.'

‘That's okay.' Mattie grinned even as her stomach clenched. ‘I gather you really got stuck into him?'

‘Oh, I gave him both barrels.' Hannah grinned back. ‘I called him a bully, a thug, asked him if he enjoyed torturing small animals as well. Told him what he'd done was criminal, and if he ever tried it again he'd be going to jail.'

Mattie continued to smile, but one small scared part of her was sneering at Hannah and snidely commenting on the fact that her threat had deterred him for precisely fifteen minutes. As long as it had taken for him to drive over. She got up to give her hands a wash.