refuse any affection from her. In the end she had to admit, that she did not like her son very much. He was almost fifteen now and she liked him even less. He had grown arrogant and undisciplined. His pale blue eyes held the same coldness of those of his father. There was little or no warmth in his personality. To her regret he had become a mirror image of his father. At times guilt threatened to overcome her, when she analysed her feelings for her son. Was she really wicked for disliking him so much?
Jessie angrily kicked at some stones as she thought about him. To think she had sacrificed her future happiness, just to keep him from being labelled a bastard.
She entered the back door, leading into the kitchen feeling hot and tired. Glancing at the clock she realized that it was time to prepare a meal. She also realized that the school bus would stop at the gate very soon. This was the highlight of her day, when her precious second child returned from school.
Allison was small and dainty. Jessie secretly thought that she looked like a fairy with her elfin like face and copious dark curls. Jessie felt her heart miss a beat as she watched her beloved daughter come skipping up the driveway. Life she often thought would be unbearable, without this child she adored. Life though had dealt Allison a cruel blow. Allison was completely deaf. This had made her utterly dependent on her mother. No one else had understood her disability. She attended the local country school where she coped and but not excelled. The sole teacher did his best, but because of the lack of resources and training, there was little he could do to help her on a one to one basis. The children had teased her relentlessly, her brother Steven being the ring- leader. Although deaf, Allison was very aware of the undercurrents in her home and so not wishing to add to her mother’s troubles, she had kept quiet about her problems at school. She could read and write tolerably well, but her greatest asset was her ability to draw. Jessie determined that one way or other, she was somehow going to give Allison every opportunity to perfect her talent for drawing. Once she had suggested to Paul that they send her to art school. Even now as she remembered his reply, she could still feel utter loathing for him.
‘You expect me to spend my hard-earned money on that idiot.’ He had almost spat the words at her.
‘Just because she is deaf does not make her an idiot.’ The tears had rolled down face, as she faced him across the kitchen table. Tears of pent-up hatred, frustration and bitterness burst forth uncontrollably.
His pale blue eyes had bored into her very being as he said, ‘As far as I am concerned I have only one child and it is certainly not that freak, so you can both go to hell.’
As she recalled his hurtful words, she knew she had been right to stop being a wife to him. It had been shortly after Allison’s birth that she had refused to share Paul’s bed any more. She had threatened to leave him, if he attempted to come near her again. She knew he had briefly considered telling her to go. It was only the realization that he could not easily acquire another unpaid housekeeper that caused him to accept the new sleeping arrangements. She knew that he now paid for his pleasures elsewhere. It had been about this time that he had started physically abusing her. The first time that he had hit her she had fallen and broken her arm.
‘How did this happen?’ The Doctor had asked.
Before she could even think of a reply Paul had answered. ‘My wife slipped on the frosty path. I am always telling her she will have to be more careful. Isn’t that so darling?’
He had tried to give her an affectionate hug. It was all she could do not to pull away in disgust. The Doctor saw her reaction, and his years of experience told him that she was a victim of abuse. However without her consent, there was little he could do to help. She felt afraid and embarrassed. Following that episode Paul had been more careful. Never again had he hit her and left any marks as evidence. Not even her parents wished to hear about her problems.
Her father had simply told her, ‘You have made your bed now you must lie in it.’
She had become more adept at avoiding Paul’s anger. They did not communicate. They only lived in the same house. Allison was her only reason for living in this house. However soon or later she knew she would have to get away for both their sakes. Trying to rid herself of her gloomy thoughts, she turned to the window. Putting her palms flat on the windowpane she bent forward and looked out. Her children were walking up the driveway towards the house. Allison spotted her mother and waved cheerily. Jessie felt her throat constricting with emotion as she waved back. Steven also saw her and determinedly walked towards the front of the house, so he could enter without having to speak to her. Ignoring him she watched as her beloved daughter came skipping up the path. She came in and immediately hugged her mother.
‘How was your day?’ Jessie spoke as she released her hold so that Allison could lip read.
‘Fine,’ Allison mouthed.
They had both learned sign language and could converse fluently, but if there were just the two of them and, they were not busy, Allison preferred to lip read.
Jessie went about the business of preparing tea, while Allison sat playing with Smithy the cat. In the distance Jessie heard the front door slam and she knew that Steven had gone outside. He would be fifteen tomorrow and she had made him a special cake. Not that he would appreciate her efforts, but she tried not to show any favouritism.
Fred, the handyman, interrupted her thoughts when he entered the kitchen and asked, ‘Do you want any coal brought in, Jess?’
‘No, thanks, Fred, I think I have enough just now.’
He tapped Allison on the shoulder to get her attention and then he spoke slowly and clearly. ‘Do you want to come and help me with the milking?’
Allison did not need asking a second time. She adored Fred and loved helping, no matter what the chore. Smithy sat dejectedly on the mat as Allison ran outside.
Fred had lived fifty of his seventy years on the farm. He had come as a young man and never left. Jessie had ample reason to feel grateful to Fred. Over the years he had treated her with respect and kindness. He lived in a small cottage not far from the house. He would come to the back door for his meals and, then return to his cottage to eat. It had become his custom to come to the kitchen at morning tea time and enjoy a chat with Jessie. However if Paul was near, Fred stayed away. Jessie suspected that Fred did not like Paul very much. She knew for a fact that Paul thought of him as a useless old sod. He had said as much on many occasions. However Paul knew better than to sack him, as Fred did more than his fair share of work around the farm. Considering his age, Fred worked long and hard and Paul knew it well. Fred had been the only one to offer comfort if Paul had hit her. He was not a man to interfere, yet many times he had suggested that she should leave. Looking back, she realized that if she had only herself to consider, then she would have packed her bags long ago. Now however, with Allison in her teens, it was becoming a worry what to do for the best because of her disability. There was no future for her on the farm, and there appeared little for her in any other field. The greatest talent that Allison possessed was being able to draw. Jessie was no expert but even she knew that Allison had something special. She had plans for her daughter. She had her secret stash of money that she would gladly use to give Allison a chance at happiness. This she would carry out at all costs.
At the sound of the men coming inside all such thoughts vanished from her mind. As usual they all ate in silence. Jessie had long ago given up trying to make conversation. She detected a hint of conspiracy between Paul and Steven. They acted like children with a secret. She could not think what it would be, but there was definitely something. They would look at her and then share a knowing grin. It made her feel unsettled and uncomfortable. Paul, she knew, could be very cruel and Steven copied his every action. Trying to defuse the situation, she suggested that Steven should do his homework. This
