A Silent Love. Susan Wright

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A Silent Love - Susan  Wright


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eyes he had.

      ‘I’m not doing my homework, because I have finished school.’

      ‘What do you mean finished school?’

      ‘Do you want me to spell it out for you? I have finished school.’

      ‘Oh, no, you have not.’

      ‘Who says so?’

      ‘I, say so.’

      Paul banged his fists down on the table, causing the dishes to all jump. ‘And I say he has finished school and that’s an end to it.’

      ‘But he is only fifteen.’

      ‘Exactly. He is fifteen tomorrow and he will be finishing school. Or did you forget that he is fifteen tomorrow?’

      ‘No, I did not forget, in fact I have made him a cake.’

      ‘Good, then let’s eat it.’

      ‘No, it is for tomorrow.’

      Jessie never even saw Paul’s fist as it caught her across the mouth.

      ‘I said; get the damn cake, now woman.’

      Sitting in a daze, she heard Steven snicker. She felt a small trickle of blood run down her chin from her mouth. Her eyes filled with tears, but she would not give either of them satisfaction seeing her cry. How she despised them both. Using her hankie, she began wiping the blood from her face, before bringing them the cake.

      With a feeling of revulsion, she watched as the two of them, gorged themselves on cake. Trying to keep up some sense of dignity, she left the room without saying a word. Climbing the stairs, she felt over come with hopelessness. She was not aware of it, but this was the last night she would spend in this unhappy house.

      Chapter two

      The next morning, as she entered the kitchen, she was not ready for the scene that met her. Cake and crumbs, were all over the table and floor. The worst thing, though, were the beer bottles on the table plus two glasses. She knew that Mark did not drink beer that meant that Steven had drunk beer with his father. Because of her sore mouth, she had slept badly and now, she was in no mood to even think about the consequences of Steven drinking alcohol.

      She stoked the coal range and began preparing breakfast. Paul came and sat down, without acknowledging her presence. Shortly afterwards Steven entered, looking very much the worse for wear. Jessie did not even feel sorry for him. Paul laughed and playfully thumped his son on the back.’ Come on son, you will have to learn to hold your liquor better than that. You look like something Smithy would cough up.’

      ‘He’s far too young to begin drinking.’

      ‘What, did you say?’

      ‘You heard. Fancy encouraging him to begin drinking at his age he is only a child.’

      ‘When I want your advice, I will ask for it.’

      Knowing it useless to argue, Jessie went about her chores in silence. A few minutes later Allison arrived for her breakfast. She walked over and kissed her mother.’ Good morning, darling,’ Jessie said.

      Paul angrily pushed back his chair. ‘Listen to that. Good morning darling.’ This he said mockingly. ‘Little idiot, that she is.’

      Turning her head, so that Allison could not lip read Jessie retorted. ‘Just because she is deaf, does not mean she is an idiot. We all know who the idiots around here are.’

      Even as she spoke, she knew, she had pushed him too far. She never saw his fist, as it caught her across the face. She was not aware of screaming or falling to the floor.

      A few minutes later, she sat up, trying to focus her blurred vision. Everything was spinning around and she felt nauseous. Through her pain and tears, she saw that Paul and Steven had left the room. Allison had a face cloth and was trying to wipe the blood from her mother’s swollen face. Both of them became frightened and unsure what to do next. Jessie managed to stagger to a chair and, signed to Allison to go and find Fred. It did not take her long, and soon Fred stood staring at Jessie. ‘This time, he has gone to far lass. You do not have to take this from him you know.’

      ‘What can I do Fred? I have nowhere to go. Besides I have Allison to think of.’

      Fred was angry, very angry. He liked Jessie, and he resented the way Paul had treated her. He also liked Allison and treated her as if she were his granddaughter. It was to Allison that he spoke, with authority. He placed his hands on her shoulders and he spoke right into her face, so that there was no way she could misunderstand him. ‘Make your mother a cup of strong tea.’ Allison stood before him, with her eyes brimming with frightened tears. Impulsively he hugged her and again spoke slowly and quietly to her. ‘Don’t worry Allison, I have a feeling that things are going to change for you and your mother. Do as I ask and look after her for a few minutes, that’s a good girl. I have something for your mother that I should have given her a long time ago; I will be back in a few minutes.’ At this instant, he could have murdered Paul, for the anguish he had inflicted upon his daughter.

      Although her head was thumping, making it hard for her concentrate Jessie managed to hear Fred and, wondered what he could have for her. In the instant that Paul hit her, she had decided there and then that she had enough. Never again, would she allow him to abuse her in such a way. A vague plan was beginning to form in her befuddled brain. Allison handed her a cup of tea.’ Thank you,’ she mouthed.

      ‘I hate him,’ Allison signed.

      This admission from her daughter was frightening, as Allison had never shown animosity towards her father. She had always been respectful and polite, even though Paul had shown open resentment towards her. Paul had always considered her stupid, because of her disability. He had never had the time, or inclination, to try to understand her, the way Jessie did. Allison sat on the stool beside her mother and gently wiped the blood from her face.’ Try not to hate him dear. It is me that provoked him.’

      ‘He should not hit you,’ Allison mouthed.

      ‘No, he shouldn’t, but I promise you things are going to change. I am not quite sure what I am going to do, but I will not allow that to happen again.’

      They sat together in silence, holding hands, as the kitchen clock ticked away the minutes. Jessie had never liked this house and at this instant, she positively hated every thing about the place. It was a cold depressing house, offering little comfort either physically or mentally.

      Fred returned, and pulled up a chair facing Jessie. He took hold of her hand, and placed something in her palm and closed her fingers over the object. Jessie uncurled her fingers and stared at a small key.

      ‘What is this for, Fred?’

      ‘It’s the key to a cottage, which I own.’

      ‘You own a cottage, Fred? Whereabouts is it? You have never spoken about this.’

      ‘I came here as a lad, when the old Mister Drury owned the place. When I arrived I planned to stay for a year or so, but here I am still here nearly fifty years later. You see lass, I like the country. I have never been one for the town life. It is way beyond me how people can live so close to one another. Anyway the story of the cottage is this. It was left to my sister and me when our parents died. I never married and neither did she. When she died five years ago the cottage became mine. Nelson is where we spent our childhood, and that is where the cottage is. Since I have no intention at my age of returning there, I want you to have it.’

      ‘Oh, Fred, that is very kind, but I couldn’t possibly accept.’

      ‘Why ever not, I thought you wanted to get away from here and in my opinion, you should leave sooner rather than later.’

      ‘I do, Fred. I really do, want to get away. For my safety and Allison’s, I know that I have to.’

      ‘Then what’s the problem?’

      ‘I don’t know, it just doesn’t


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