Mother Undone — Part Sixteen
A Psychological Thriller That Explores The Dark Side Of Motherhood
The story so far…
Johanna, a woman haunted by guilt over the death of her children, tries to make a fresh start in a new city in a house inherited from her grandmother. Later, she discovers that one of Australia’s most famous poisoners, Martha Needle, used to live there.
When Johanna decides to write a book about Martha with her new friend, Kate, she discovers that Kate has betrayed her in the worst way possible.
However, in spite of — perhaps because of — Kate’s betrayal, Johanna realises she has to face up to the truth about her past…
Dear Kate
Now it’s my turn to write to you. I hope you’re still at this email address. I tried sending it to your work address but it bounced and, when I rang your school they said you weren’t working there anymore and they wouldn’t tell me where you’d gone.
I’ve been thinking about you a lot lately, about our friendship and the time we spent together and you know what? I don’t regret a minute of it. You might think it’s strange me saying that after finding out what you’d done… but it’s true.
I’ve also been thinking a lot about me.
I was mistaken when I thought moving to Melbourne was the beginning of a brand new life. I wasn’t starting again. All I was doing was escaping. But had I not come here to my Grandmother’s cottage, had we not decided to write our book and research Martha’s history, I’d never have been able to face who I really am and what I did.
That’s why I don’t regret meeting you Kate. For the first time in ages, things are making sense.
Kate, do you think it’s possible to escape our destiny? What if I, like Martha Needle, am also An Abnormal Woman? A woman who hated being a mother, a woman who poisoned her husband’s love for her and her children… so much so, her husband decided to kill their children.
I remember you beating yourself up in your email, Kate. You were convinced that if you hadn’t had an affair with my husband, I probably would have stayed with him and he wouldn’t have killed our children to get back at me for divorcing him.
Despite everything you’ve done, I can’t let you take the blame for the deaths of Anna, James and Tom.
It was me. It was all me.
Because I know — deep down in my heart — that, if what I’m about to tell you never happened, my children would still be alive today.
Then…
When I woke that morning in September, I knew my life was about to change. I could feel it as surely as I smelt the promise of spring in the almond blossom outside my window.
Stuart and I had been separated for nearly six months and, yesterday, while waiting for Anna to finish her ballet class, I’d overheard two women discussing a colleague who had suddenly left her job at a small but successful PR company.
My heart leapt in my chest. I’d been looking for a job without success for the past year now that the children were all at school. This news was Fate greeting me with open arms. It had to be.
I rang Phillip Baker, Managing Partner of Baker-Godwin Public Relations. He said he’d planned to offer another candidate the job but could I meet him at five o’clock?
I made some quick time calculations: Stuart was due to pick up the kids at 4:30. If I met Anna, Tom and James after school, we’d be home by four o’clock, in time to pack their bags and start Anna on her homework. Stuart was punctual so I’d still have time to freshen up before the meeting and arrive with a few minutes to spare. I could do it! I’d be so convincing at that interview, he’d have to offer me the position.
I agreed to meet Phillip at five o’clock at the firm’s offices and, at 3:15, waited impatiently outside the school gates. Ten minutes later, the door opened and a flock of chattering children spilled down the steps and scampered across the grass.
Anna’s blonde head bobbed above the crowd; the twins, Tom and James, by her side. They were all holding hands. I waved and beckoned. “Hurry!” I mouthed. Anna quickened her pace and ushered the boys towards the car.
The back door was already open. “Hop in the car, Darlings. Mummy has to be somewhere at five o’clock so we have to hurry.”
“Mum, I feel sick,” said Tom, as he climbed inside followed by his twin.
I fastened my seatbelt and glanced in the rear vision mirror. Tom did look pale. He stared ahead, his hands resting on his stomach.
“Tom? Are you going to be sick?” I demanded.
“No, I don’t think so.”
“Melinda Zuckermann chucked all over her desk in Maths once,” James chortled. “There was green and orange chunks in her sick — like carrots and peas. Hey Tom, did you eat some of that for lunch today?”
Tom groaned and clutched his belly.
“James! Put your seatbelt on and be quiet! Tom: think of something else and ignore James. He’s just doing it to annoy you.”
I turned the key in the ignition and took a deep breath. Why did Tom have to feel sick today… of all days? I wanted to be patient and understanding — especially where Tom was concerned — but sometimes I felt like screaming at them all to shut up and leave me alone.
As I eased the car into the line of traffic, I noticed James whispering in Tom’s ear. Tom groaned again and closed his eyes. He really did look sick.
Anna sat quietly in the front seat, her hands folded in her lap. “How did you go in your maths test today, Anna?” I asked.
“Good, I think. I checked with Emily who’s the smartest girl in the class and we had nearly the same answers.”
I nodded and glanced at the back seat again. James had slithered out of his seatbelt and was drumming his fists into Tom’s belly.
“James!” The car swerved towards the middle of the road, nearly catching the side of an oncoming Land Cruiser. I pulled to the side of the road with a screech of brakes.
At the same time, a projectile of yellow vomit flew from Tom’s mouth onto the back of Anna’s seat. “Ooooooh, gross,” complained Anna.
Tom wailed. James laughed.
My hands were shaking with rage as I tried to undo my seatbelt. Then I stopped. Without it to restrain me, I might do the twins actual damage.
I took a deep breath and counted to ten. “James! Sit down and fasten your seatbelt,” I said through clenched teeth. “You will both sit still in your filthy mess and not move — not even a muscle — until we get home. Do you hear me? Anna — you’ll clean the car.”
“But, Mum, I didn’t do anything wrong! Why do I have to clean the car?”
I gripped the steering wheel so hard, my knuckles turned white. It was like the children had guessed I had to be somewhere important. They were as bad as Stuart! They all wanted to keep me a prisoner at their bloody beck and call. ‘Mum, I need a note for the school excursion.’ ‘Mum, I’m hungry, when’s dinner?’ ‘Mum, I don’t want to go to bed now!’ ‘Mum can you take me to Hugo’s for a sleepover?’ When the kids grew up, they’d be just like their damn father!
Right then, I almost hated them.
I glanced at the dashboard clock: three-fifty. With the traffic, we’d be lucky to get home by ten past four. And now I had to bathe the boys before Stuart arrived!
The children were silent. Anna sat stiffly and stared ahead at the road. When I pulled into the driveway and parked the car, Anna jumped out and slammed the door. Slinging her backpack over her shoulder, she disappeared inside the house, muttering under her breath.
I turned to the twins. “Both of you get out of the car, march inside and go straight to the bathroom. You’re having a bath before Daddy gets here.”
The twins groaned. They hated baths. But the grim set of my face must have scared them. I followed the twins inside and up the stairs into the bathroom and turned on the taps.
“Anna?” I called from the top of the stairs. “I really appreciate you cleaning the car.” But Anna refused to acknowledge me as she trudged past carrying a yellow bucket, the stiffness of her back betraying her anger.
The clock on the wall said it was twenty minutes past four. I still had to bathe and dress the twins and pack their bags… all in ten minutes. I pressed my lips together. I could do it. I damn well would do it! My future happiness depended on it. I knew instinctively that if I rang to reschedule the meeting, I wouldn’t get the job.
The bath was half-full. I tested it with one hand, then flicked on the cold tap and added a squirt of bubble bath. The twins, cowed and naked, their spindly limbs shaking with cold, stepped into the bath uncomplainingly while I soaped the sponges.
“Mum?” Anna’s sulky voice called from the bottom of the stairs.
I poked my head from the bathroom. “What Darling?”
“I used the last of the detergent and I have to change the water. Where’s a new bottle?”
“There should be a fresh one under the kitchen sink.”
“I’ve already looked there, it’s not.”
I sighed. “Wait a minute. Boys, I’ll be right back. Sit still and do not move!”
I hurried down the stairs to find another bottle of detergent.
Splashes and screams came from the bathroom. I ran up the stairs two at a time. James had thrown a soapy sponge into Tom’s face.
Tom screamed and rubbed his eyes with his hands.
“Tom and James! Stop that at once!” I grabbed a flannel and scrubbed at Tom’s face. Tom screamed louder, his arms thrashing vainly at James who dodged and laughed.
The telephone rang. Could it get any worse? Why was fate conspiring to prevent me from attending that interview?
Phillip Baker sounded embarrassed. “Johanna? I’m sorry to ring you at such short notice but I’m afraid I’m going to have to cancel our interview this evening.”
I tried to keep my voice even. “May I ask why?”
“It’s a bit awkward… but it seems the person I interviewed has already told everybody they have the job. I’m really sorry but I’m kind of committed now. I hope you understand.”
“Of course.” I replaced the receiver and stared at it. My way out, my future… gone. Just like that. My ‘lifeboat’ had just sprung a major leak and now I was sinking into a bottomless lake… with no hope of rescue.
Another shriek. The sound of wet fists pummeling flesh. A yell. A splash. A loud thump.
“Mum!”
I raced back into the bathroom. James lay at the bottom of the tub, a spiral of blood swimming like a red tadpole from the back of his head. Tom pounded the edge of the bath with his fists. “He was hitting me so I pushed him away… he hit the back of his head on the tap!”
But Tom’s voice sounded like it was coming from far away, like from a television in another room.
A haze descended… I felt a rush… a giant whoosh… as I was sucked from my body. I floated towards the ceiling and watched Tom climb out of the bath, cheeks wet with tears, his mouth opening and closing, hands gesticulating. What was he saying? And why was the Johanna-person standing still, arms hanging by her side, doing nothing? I wanted to tell her to pull James out of the water, but no sound came from my mouth.
It was only seconds but it felt like minutes… hours. Everything seemed in slow motion. Everything was soft… hazy.
Then the bathroom door slammed against the wall, the crash snapping me back into my body. Stuart’s rough hands shoved me aside and I tumbled onto the tiles, a jarring pain in my hip jolting me back to reality.
Stuart scooped the unconscious child from the water and ordered Tom to lay towels on the floor. He slapped James’ face, rolled him to one side and landed a sharp slap in the middle of his back.
James coughed and retched. Water flew from his mouth. Stuart dabbed at the wound on the back of James’ head, then wrapped him in a towel and hugged his son to his chest.
Tom pulled frantically at his father’s sleeve. “I d-d-didn’t mean to hurt him Dad! He was getting at me so I hit him! He fell and hit his head on the tap! It was an accident!”
Stuart grasped Tom’s shoulder with his free hand, silencing him. Then he turned to me with cold, accusing eyes. “Why the fuck were you just standing there doing nothing?”
I couldn’t answer because I didn’t know.
I closed my eyes. If I kept them shut and concentrated hard, maybe — just maybe — I could float away again.
Only this time, I wouldn’t come back…
Kate, I’ve tried to analyse what happened to me that day. Why I left my body, why I couldn’t hear Tom’s voice, why I didn’t rescue my son from the bath.
From what I understand, I had a spontaneous out-of-body experience brought about by shock.
But what if — and I can hardly bear to put this into words — what if, at some buried, primal level, I didn’t want to rescue James?
I was so angry with my son. When I got that telephone call saying I didn’t have the job, I felt such… resentment towards him; I held him entirely responsible, even though it wasn’t his fault.
And Kate, you have no idea how happy I was in that soft, white, warm, relaxing space. For the first time since I could remember, I had no worries… no fears… no anger… nothing. I felt cocooned from everything bad. I didn’t want to come back. I didn’t even consider James. I was Johanna again… the purest form of me… the person I was meant to be.
I’m not explaining it very well, am I?
When Stuart burst in, I came back into my body. The situation was surreal: Tom screaming, Stuart yelling, water splashing, blood dripping from the back of James’ head where he’d hit the tap.
After he rescued James, Stuart turned to me. I’ll never forget that look in his eyes… it still sends shivers down my spine. He’d read my blog posts where I said I hated being a mother and he must have thought that I didn’t care if James lived or died — even if it was only for a millisecond.
And I think he was right. I think that, subconsciously, I must have let it happen and, had Stuart not intervened, James would have drowned.
I thought things went back to normal after that.
James had no memory of his brush with death and Tom gave James his favourite train to make up for hitting him, so they were both happy. Anna forgave me for making her clean the car and, while he seemed wary with me, Stuart continued to have the children once a fortnight and never mentioned it again.
I saw my out-of-body experience as a ‘wake-up call’. I abandoned all thoughts of working and was determined to be the best, most devoted mother on the planet. I pushed the whole horrible episode to the back of my mind and tried not to think about what I’d almost done.
Now I know that was a mistake.
I should have punished myself in some obvious way.
Maybe then, Stuart would have been satisfied and allowed my children to live.
Because never in my wildest nightmares did I imagine he planned to murder them.
Even now, it’s incomprehensible to me. I still replay every word I said, everything I did. I dissect every phrase and analyse every action, then reconstruct it, wondering if there was anything different, anything more or less I could have said or done that might have stopped him.
I’ll never know of course.
What I do know is, that if that day had never happened, my kids would still be alive. Stuart hated me and killed them to get revenge on me that’s true.
But I know a part of him did it for me. Not to me. For me. After James’ accident, he thought I wanted it.
So there you have it, Kate. My confession. I don’t know if you feel any better now, but it doesn’t matter because I do.
Stuart didn’t break me. You didn’t break me. I’m still standing and I’ve got a future, even if it’s not clear yet.
Goodbye Kate… and thank you for helping me to see what I needed to see… and what I need to do.
I truly wish you all the best. I’m leaving Melbourne soon but, if you want to come by for a farewell drink, you know my address.
Regards,
Johanna
To be continued…
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