– What on earth are you thinking now? What sort of care home? Absolutely not! Im not leaving my house! Elizabeth Harpers father hurled his mug at her, aiming for her head. She dodged instinctively.
Clearly, this cant go on. Sooner or later, hell figure out a way to hurt her, and shell be caught off guard. Even as she filled out the forms for his placement in the care home, Elizabeth was swamped by guilt. The irony was, given how hed treated her, she was already doing far too much.
As her father was placed in the car, he screamed, kicked, and cursed everyone taking part in his move.
Elizabeth stood at the window, watching the car disappear down the road. Shed felt this way before but that time, shed been a little girl, unable to imagine what her life would become.
Elizabeth was an only child. Her mother had never dared risk a second, knowing what kind of tyrant her husband was determined to make his familys life miserable.
Elizabeths father, John Harper, was already older when she was born well into his forties. Hed only married for career reasons. The idea of marrying for love or to start a family had never crossed his mind. Hed never loved anyone more than himself. But to sustain his climb up the career ladder, John needed the aura of a respectable family man. He quickly selected a bride from among his acquaintances Mary Collins, barely out of college, from a humble working-class family. For her parents, marrying into the family of such a distinguished civil servant was the height of aspiration. Of course, Marys own wishes were not consulted. The wedding was lavish but Marys parents did not attend, their social standing far too modest.
After marriage, Mary moved into Johns home.
To ensure Mary quickly became a suitable civil servants wife, a woman was assigned to teach her etiquette, how to keep her opinions to herself, and how to overlook whatever she wasnt given permission to see.
– So, how was your day? John would ask, settling back in his armchair after work.
– Lovely, thank you. Ive started learning how to set the table properly, and Ive begun English lessons as well. The crucial rule Mary had learned was never to give her husband any cause for dissatisfaction.
– Is that all? And who looked after the house while you were doing that?
– I did. I set the weeks menu with the cook, did the shop myself, and even tidied up.
– Right then. Not bad for today. But see to it your hands are always clean, and that you dont go around looking like a country bumpkin. Behave properly, and maybe Ill get you a driver and a maid. But not yet you havent earned it.
No matter how hard Mary tried, peaceful days were few. More often than not, John came home late, irritable and exhausted, and Mary was his only outlet. The staff couldnt back chat, but they could quit, or spread secrets around. Mary had no one to confide in, nor anywhere to go.
John first struck his wife a month after the wedding. Not for any specific fault, just as a warning, so shed know who was boss and that worse would follow if she disobeyed.
From then on, the beatings became frequent. John was careful never to leave obvious marks or affect her gait; no one on the outside could suspect anything. Mary learned to hide her bruises with clothing, smiling brightly at Johns colleagues and friends when she was required to play hostess.
A year passed. Friends and colleagues began to hint that the young couple ought to have a child by now.
– John, you seem the picture of health. So why isnt your wife expecting, eh? Maybe one of you is a dud. Get her to the doctor its time to stop wasting effort.
– Were not planning children just yet. Marys still at college, John answered stiffly.
– College? What for? Shes got no business learning. Children, a husband, a house thats all she needs. She should leave her studies and start seeing doctors. My wife knows a couple of good ones. And dont tell me youre not planning kids. Thats the point of marriage you should set an example!
That began a new chapter for Mary endless tests, check-ups, assessments. John even had to stop hitting her, for fear the doctors might notice.
Months passed. The doctors found no problems; Mary was perfectly healthy and could become a mother any day. The issue, it seemed, was with John as one doctor carefully suggested a medical assessment for him.
– Me? Youre mad. One word from me, and youll be treating stray cats for a living.
– Even if you do that, sir, it wont solve your own problem, the doctor replied calmly, used to dealing with authority.
– What do you suggest then? John asked grumpily.
– At the very least, start getting checked yourself.
After a round of tests, John received the disappointing verdict: his chances of fatherhood were minimal. All he could do was hope for a miracle.
The constant reminders from colleagues, and the sight of his young, vibrant wife, only increased Johns anger. There was no point taking it out on Mary anymore; she no longer cried or showed fear. In the beginning at least she used to cry, but then shed just freeze, like a statue.
To distract himself, John took a mistress, which diverted him for a while.
Two and a half years later, their miracle finally happened. Elizabeth was born her fathers spitting image. Yet John felt nothing for the baby. Her upbringing was left to Mary and a nanny. John could go for weeks without seeing her and felt no need for contact.
The older Elizabeth grew, the more her fathers irritation grew; it took ever more effort not to lash out at the unruly child.
The first time he hit her, she was five. Shed started throwing a tantrum, asking for something just as John returned home from a difficult meeting, seething from work problems. Not wanting her drama, he threw her across the room so she crashed into the wall. The shock was such that Elizabeth didnt even cry; John simply sprawled on the sofa and flicked on the TV.
Elizabeth took the lesson to heart and tried never to provoke her father again. But now hed crossed that line once, John no longer bothered to restrain himself. Hed slap her, call her names, humiliate her, even with guests in the house. Now an influential man, John no longer needed to maintain his model-family image. Hed merrily mock Elizabeth for the amusement of his friends, watching her blush and struggle to hold back tears.
– Mr Harper, Ive heard Elizabeth is a very talented violinist! Might we ask her to play?
– Violinist? She can barely hold the thing the right way! If you really want her to play, feel free, but I wouldnt recommend it. Lizzie! You hear me? Go get your violin and give us a tune!
Red with shame, Elizabeth would shuffle away to get her instrument. Playing in front of a crowd was terrifying, but angering her father was far worse.
Her terror of performing would follow Elizabeth all her life, relegating her promising music career to fantasy. She never touched the violin again after music college.
At the time, she didnt know: was everyones family like this? When she saw pictures of happy, smiling families in storybooks, she always wondered why shed been unlucky enough to be born to a man who hated the world.
Her mother was no role model either. Unable to love a child fathered by a cruel man, she kept her distance. When Elizabeth was thirteen, her mother died officially in a car accident. What had actually happened, Elizabeth would never know. After that, she withdrew even more.
After school Elizabeth went to university, studying the subject her father chose one of the last decisions hed ever make for her. By then his work was rife with scandal, so he distanced himself from her. By the time she finished, her father had squandered his influence and almost all his assets, most spent buying his way out of prosecution for crimes committed during his career. Fortunately, scandal faded; he retired quietly to his cottage. Elizabeth kept her distance; there was nothing left to say, and she wasnt willing to endure more abuse.
Alone, John lost the outlet for his bitterness, and it took a toll on his sanity. Neighbours started calling Elizabeth, telling her about his erratic behaviour. She had to brace herself and do the hardest thing: take him in.
With his daughter close by, John seemed rejuvenated; daily tantrums, shouting matches, name-calling, smashing crockery or flinging belongings became the norm. Elizabeth confined him to one room, installing a lock in hopes of containing the chaos. When even this measure failed and his dementia became obvious, Elizabeth was forced to make the hardest decision of all placing him in a care home.
She never married or had a family of her own. Broken and unsure of herself, Elizabeth kept her distance from colleagues and had no friends. Even so, the guilt of placing her father in a care home gnawed away at her.
It was dangerous to have him at home tests confirmed he was developing dementia and no longer realised what he was doing. But the spite and hatred for his daughter remained, long after John lost the ability to recognise her.
Elizabeth toured every care facility in the city, searching for the right place. The best one charged a hefty fee. She gave up most of her salary and took extra jobs just to afford it.
For days after her father left, Elizabeth wandered around in a daze, remembering how once she and her mum had run away the same way, years ago. That was the only time Mary had tried to leave her husband; John found them and soon after, Mary died.
Despite all this, every time Elizabeth visited her father, she wept with guilt and sorrow as if those were the only emotions her parents had taught her.
On top of her ever-present guilt, Elizabeth soon began to feel her health declining.
