The Supposed Truth

i)

“It’s not what you do, but what you’re seen to do that’s important.” She quipped with a wink. Paul looked at his soon-to-be-mother-in-law with contempt. The comment had been said with an innocent enough smile, amongst the applause, in a voice that she knew only he could hear. He so wanted to push her on to the stage or trip her, but he knew that he’d be the ultimate loser. He knew that Lesley would milk it for all it was worth and he’d also lose whatever support he still had from Jane, his fiancée. So he let inch her way, painfully into the centre of the stage and accept the award for “Fundraising personality of the year” –even though it was Jane who had done all the work. There’s never a precariously placed bucket of blood around when you really want one, he thought.

To hear Lesley tell her story she was a survivor; and there were certain facts that attested to that, but there was a lot to be said about how those facts were interpreted. Leo, her long suffering husband, used to beat her and she had the bruises to prove it. 

People were shocked when they first heard what had happened for Lesley and Leo had been the archetypal happy couple; a storybook romance if ever there was one. If any acting had been involved on either part then it was Oscar worthy for sure.

Nothing happened for the first ten years and then Lesley, who had never seemed vain or insecure, started wearing heavy make-up. No one said anything to start with, but after a few months the bruises started to appear on her arms and legs, and she wore long sleeves and trousers, even in summer.

It didn’t take long before the “truth” came out. Lesley was at the forefront of women’s lib in the ‘80’s and went back to work, succeeding in a male dominated office; and it was there that the truth surfaced.

The truth that Leo had been beating her…. But even when it was common knowledge it still took a year before she eventually left him. It wasn’t until she was hospitalised through a severely damaged spine that the police stepped in. Leo had kicked her mercilessly in the back…. At the time no one could understand what could possibly have provoked him, and no one really cared. All eyes were on Lesley. She still loved him though and attested to it being her fault, but eventually left him; knowing it to be traumatic for Jane, she had to strike it out on her own.

Her story became the talk of the village and all rallied around her. Leo barely managed to make it out of the village with his life; he was damn near lynched the moment he was released from police custody. Lesley couldn’t bear to press charges, she still maintained that it was her fault; that somehow she had provoked him.

Years later Paul found out the truth….

ii)

“You’ve got to believe me; there’s so much more to the story than what you know; what you’ve been told.” Leo was close to tears; ten years afterwards, nursing his beer as if it only happened yesterday; the events still leeching the life from him. This was no longer a man but a spent casing.

Paul was 17, had just started work at the local supermarket in the next town. He’d was also going out with Jane and was now well versed in the story, or so he thought. Who in the village hadn’t been? It was legend, but he’d been given a fresh re-telling just the week before; straight from the Lesley’s mouth; exactly two weeks after they’d gotten engaged. Even then it seemed a bizarre thing to do; to relive it in such detail and with Jane being an avid listener. Maybe to Jane it was now just a macabre fairy tale akin to those about the trepidations of adulthood and the dangers of marriage. Paul wondered if that was why he was being told; to serve as some kind of warning?

There was something in that retelling, though, that just didn’t ring true to him. He had grown up with Leo and had respected him as an authority figure. It was important for Paul now to hear the other side of the story from Leo himself. After all, Lesley was going to be his mother-in-law, and if there were any dangers it was better to be forewarned.

When Paul first saw Leo in the staff canteen he sat down and started talking to him as if nothing had happened. No one else ever sat next to him and Leo looked at him with fear and trepidation. He would have been aware of the gossip surrounding Paul’s proposal to Jane, guessed that Lesley had told him the story and, naturally, thought the worst. He seemed relieved when Paul asked him for a drink; someone was taking an interest in his side of the story. Obviously Paul never told Jane they were meeting up.

That night, dinner and a pint at the local pub next to the supermarket.

“So… tell me, Leo; I’ve met Lesley. She’s a nightmare an all..”

“You don’t know the half of it.” He interrupted and looked down into his pint; haggard and worn as the pub itself. He breathed deep, coughing against the deep cloud of smoke that hung in the air, permeating the conversations around. “I’ve not told another person, Paul. I doubt they’d believe me.”

“Try me…”

“To hear Lesley tell it I used to beat her incessantly; the bastard husband and she was the dutiful, sorrowful wife. But would you believe that what I did was out of self-defence? Desperation?”

“Oh, come on now… I’ve heard of excuses, but…”

“What about this then? Excuse this.” Leo pulled up his jumper and t-shirt. Even though the alcove where they sat was dimly lit Paul could still see the wound; as if Leo had been struck with something but the flesh was badly scarred. “A poker… clichéd as it sounds, red hot.  That was done the last night I saw her, when I was already on the floor. She’d already hit me two or three times and there was no way for me to escape. I dunno, something inside me snapped then. I knew I had to fight back. That’s when I lost control; it started out as self-defence.”

Paul was stunned. If anyone else had told him then would he have believed them? Even now, with the evidence right in front of him it seemed improbable; frightening even. But it was the sheer desperation in Leo’s eyes, the desperation to be believed.

“Why didn’t you tell the police?”

“You think I didn’t try? Do you honestly think it was the first time I’d tried going to the police? They didn’t believe me – a big strong man? I mean, you didn’t even believe me!”

“I don’t know, Leo.. I really don’t know what to say.” And Paul didn’t. He wasn’t one to be speechless but there were too many things that rung true. Leo could be trying to win back some sympathy, but why now after all these years? What would be the point?

“You could start by listening to what I’ve got to say.”

iii)

“Beware of Lesley.” Leo said as an opener. “She’s a skilled manipulator; it’s a learned behaviour as her mother was the Queen. I nicknamed her ‘Livia’ after the character in ‘I, Claudius’, except her poison was of a different kind but just as lethal.” Leo explained further. “Lesley learned her lessons well…and her sense of timing?” He shook his head and drank from the emptying beer glass in front of him. “For the first few years things were great; well, except for Livia trying to break the two of us up, but Lesley wouldn’t have it. She fought her tooth and claw and could get pretty nasty sometimes. Part of me actually felt sorry for her mum, y’know?

“You know, it hurts more now knowing it was just a part she was playing; that she was just biding her time until I could give her what she always wanted.”

Paul looked at Leo askew, unsure of what he meant. He had an idea but it was too monstrous to contemplate, Leo continued.

“Even when Jane was born things went well. Lesley was the loving mother; a little over-protective, possibly, but nothing major. I mean, with a mother like hers you could understand, y’know?

“Looking back on it now I can see what was happening; I was slowly being pushed to the back of the family unit. Work was becoming harder and we needed the money, so I saw less and less of them both. As time passed and Jane started school the snide comments started; gradual at first, then increasing in intensity and regularity. Jane was of an age now to bear witness to it all; I did what I could to make amends, tried to juggle work and home more but we were struggling financially. Even with all the hours I worked we were barely scraping by.

“When Jane finally started secondary school Lesley put forward the idea of working herself; bringing in another lot of money, fitting in her hours around the school day. I know that she’s made out that I was against it from the start but that couldn’t be further from the truth.” He shook his head again, reliving it all over again.

Paul saw this as a chance for a breather; it was becoming more intense than he’d imagined.

“I’m going to get another pint. Want one?”

“That’d be nice, Paul… Isn’t it my turn to get one in?”

“Just sit there, mate. You look as if you need it.” Leo just nodded.

Ordering the pint Paul just shook his head; it all sounded so fantastic. If it had been told to him by anyone else, or about anyone else he would have said that it deserved to be in a soap opera. But there were too many things that rang true for Paul to dismiss out of hand. He had gotten to know Lesley too well himself and had started making his own comparisons with how she’d behaved to him.

He’d known her most of his life, growing up in the village she’d always been more of a surrogate aunt to him; but since dating Jane their relationship seemed to have changed. Barbs had started to appear; serrated edges to some of the comments she’d make in passing.

iv)

Sitting down with Leo again they sipped their pints, almost afraid of what was coming next. “Things turned nasty the night I woke up handcuffed to the bed. She’d never shown any signs of being into that kind of stuff before, and at first I have to admit that it turned me on. We hadn’t had sex in a while so it was almost a welcome relief, but it showed another side to her that I hadn’t seen before. She seemed to relish being in control and, for my part I just laid back and enjoyed it… initially.”

Paul tried his best not to picture the scene; it was the last thing he wanted to imagine Lesley doing.

“It happened a few more times.” Leo continued, “Always unexpectedly and at first it was fun; arousing even… but then she started exercising more control, not letting me cum. I was already suffering because of stress at work and this didn’t help me at all. It got frightening sometimes, I don’t mind admitting to you, Paul. She ignored my protests and then denied any knowledge of what was going on when I tried to talk about it later.”

“It was just a game for her, then?”

“Oh yeah; for sure – one sick game.”

“Who’s Afraid Of Virginia Woolf…” Paul muttered.

“Worse; much worse at least their game was through willing participation. I was never willing!”

“What happened next?”

“She seemed to grow tired of me just lying there and she’d really try to provoke me. Push me into hitting back… but I wouldn’t… just couldn’t do it.

“Then one morning she came downstairs into the kitchen with a black eye. I was horrified and asked her how she got it. She seemed terrified of me and backed away; begged me not to touch her again.”

“But…”

“No. I never laid a hand on her, Paul. Seriously.”

“I want to believe you, Leo. Really I do. But what you’re telling me sounds too fantastic.”

“I couldn’t have hurt her; not like that –I know only too well what it feels like. My father, God rot his soul, used to take it out on both mam and myself. It’s a wonder I’m still here after some of the beatings he used to dish out.”

“I didn’t know that, Leo… I’m sorry… but you did hurt Lesley later…”

“It was either her or me. Things had spiralled too far… I’ll get to that in a bit. I know this makes for unpleasant listening, Paul, but you have to understand.” Paul nodded at Leo to continue. “Lesley knew about my mum & dad, but she was trying her best to find where I’d finally draw the line.”

“What about the black eye?”

“I don’t know… truthfully, I don’t know. I’ve never been able to figure it out. That leaves two possibilities –make up or she did it to herself. I don’t know which troubled me more…. Of course, she’d apply more foundation to the area when she went to work and did her best to hide it. This was all for my benefit at that stage; she wanted the torture to be psychological rather than just physical. She created this whole… abuse fantasy, that I was deliberately hurting her and nothing I said made any difference. She insisted that we slept in separate beds, which I was only too happy about.”

“So why didn’t you try to leave her?”

“And say what? What possible reasons could I give for wanting to leave her? She was so clever about it all… and then there was Jane to think about. I couldn’t let Lesley get custody of her; but I didn’t bank on what Lesley was telling her behind my back…

“I remember one night; actually the night when everything came to a head, Lesley had gone on a night out with her friends from work. I picked them up from the pub… I can just picture it now: she’d probably been bad-mouthing me the whole night. When they got in the car I could feel their stares and one of the even whispered ‘bastard’ at me when they left.

“Lesley was extremely drunk and all her inhibitions were gone. As soon as she closed the front door she was on at me. Slapping me across the face with such venom. That was the last straw –I’d had enough; I wanted out.” Leo took another sip and shuddered. “What I should have done was just walk out the door and maybe things would have ended different.

“But I didn’t… I went upstairs to pack.  I didn’t see Lesley go to the fireplace; pick up the poker that had been lying there all night. It was only when I felt the pain that I realised what she’d hit me with.

“She was behind me on the stairs –can you picture it?  So I must have fallen and taken her with me, but it was all a calculated risk. Each bruise she had she could blame on me.

“She was on her feet before I’d even stopped falling, and just started hitting me with the poker, again and again. She hit me in the same place, over and over so it wouldn’t show.

“I finally came to my senses after hitting my head on the way down, but I’d had enough. I managed to knock the poker out of her hands and then just kicked her legs from under her. I got up and she was just lying there, looking at me. The maliciousness in her eyes is a sight I’ll take to my grave; the sheer hatred that she directed at me.

“’She’s not yours and never will be.’ She said; her final words to me. I finally snapped and just lashed out; kicked her repeatedly where she lie. I just couldn’t think straight –it had been months of torture and I couldn’t take it anymore…

“But it was then that I heard Jane sobbing. I just broke down myself and cried. There was no going back from this; she’d been meticulous in her planning and when the police finally arrived she played her part beautifully.”

“Who called the police?” Paul asked.

“Jane… she must have been scared out of her wits… Even when the police came she wouldn’t even look at me. I failed her…The police didn’t care about my side of the story; and if I was in their place maybe I would’ve done the same. This is exactly how Lesley had planned it and she played to it perfectly; begging me to forgive her. I found it so difficult not to lose my temper again but I wasn’t going to give her the satisfaction. I’d lost enough already.”

v)

Paul just let the conversation stall. It would have been far easier to just disbelieve everything Leo had told him. He’d had plenty of time to make something up, after all, but to see his wound, hear the emotion in his voice.

But what was worse; he could picture Lesley saying all those things and, if anything, she had become more manipulative. She was the Queen of emotional blackmail and thrived on getting people to do things for her.

Somehow she had become an ambassador for a local children’s charity. She arranged drop off’s and pick-up’s (which Jane organised and undertook) and day-trips for the children, and organised cake sales (which Jane baked for and ran).

Jane didn’t seem to mind; she doted on her mother –the whole village seemed to; commended her on the work that she did so selflessly; especially when she came from such a background. (one might wonder why she didn’t volunteer or raise money for a battered wives charity… ) Eventually she was nominated, and won, their coveted Fundraiser of the Year award. Of course, Lesley lapped it all up with great humility.

She used that night to tell Paul exactly what she thought of him: “She’s not yours to have, you know; regardless of what you think. She’ll never be yours, but I’m going to let her come to that conclusion on her own.”

“And if she doesn’t?”

“Well… I guess I’ll have to nudge her a bit. It won’t take much… After all, it’s not what you do but what you’re seen to do that’s important. To her I’ll always be the loving mother.”

Paul let it stew for a while. The more he thought about what Leo had told him the more he realised what was at stake. Lesley had already laid down the law to him; regardless of what he wanted she wasn’t going to let him in. Yet why was she biding her time? Why not just force him out now?

He thought back to what Leo had told him and suddenly he realised… but it seemed so monstrous. It was the only thing that made sense though: she wanted a grandchild. He was being used, little more than a stud and when he had performed his part then he would be just cast aside.

Paul had to figure out what his options were. The obvious one was to just cut and run; have nothing more to do with either of them. It would certainly be easier, call the whole relationship off. … but he loved Jane; had done for years and was pretty sure that she felt the same.

Course, she had never been put into the situation where she had to choose between the two of them, which was another option, to be sure… but not one where Paul fancied his chances. The only other option was to confront her with the truth.

vi)

Which didn’t go down too well at all. Almost as soon as he dropped the ‘bombshell’ about seeing Leo things went from bad to worse.

“I know.” The exact last thing he expected her to say… 
Jane then summarised their entire conversation as if she had been there. “You really think that mum wouldn’t have found out? And then told me?”

So that was it, Paul thought, Lesley must have been told about his meeting Leo in the staff canteen (he hadn’t exactly been subtle, but it hadn’t occurred to him that there was any reason to be secretive) and then pre-empted the conversation with Jane and put her own spin on it –the supposed truth.

“And I expect you believe him?” Jane challenged.

“Well, I found it hard not to, baby.”

“Don’t call me that anymore.” She snapped. “I honestly thought you’d be different; that you’d see things as they really were rather than take the easy way out”

“I hardly see it as the easy way out, babe.”

“Don’t call me that!”

“You weren’t there; you didn’t hear what Leo said to me; the wound on his side… see the pain on his face when he told the story.”

“The wound on his side could have been make-up…”

“That’s exactly what he said about your mum’s bruises in the early days.”

“His story is right though, Paul. You weren’t there…” she snapped. “You weren’t there when he was kicking seven shades of shit out of her. He beat her, Paul!”

“You weren’t there either, Jane.”

“You bastard. How dare you?” I thought I’d really overstepped the mark then. That was the first time they’d ever had a real argument; he’d always stuck up for her before then and there had been no reason for her to doubt his love, despite what Lesley may have said.

“Listen to me, pet; please. I wouldn’t lie to you –especially over something like this.”

They talked for hours. It was like walking across a minefield for Paul; he was very aware that he could easily say the wrong thing at any time and was careful not to point the finger or make any spurious claim against Lesley, despite every fibre of his being wanting to do opposite. He knew that this was make or break time for them as a couple; there was no going back now.

He wanted Jane to keep an open mind; to see if there might be any grain of truth to what Leo had said. Nothing would be done with Lesley until a situation presented itself; Paul wanted so desperately for Lesley to hang herself.. and, as luck would have it, he didn’t have to wait long.

viii)

It was a holiday he had been looking forward to for some weeks. Initially it was just going to be the pair of them; a romantic weekend away, but when Lesley got wind of it she played her sympathy card and emotionally blackmailed Jane into bringing her along.

At this stage Jane was starting to believe what Paul had been saying. She had noticed little things: the way Lesley constantly tried undermining him; and it had definitely gotten worse since he had seen Leo.

Jane wanted to confront her mum then –she had been looking forward to the holiday herself. Lesley had become more ‘frail’ over the last few weeks; constantly needing attention. She had cancerous growths on her legs which seemed to flare up at all the wrong moments. Jane couldn’t help but feel resentment over the way she was treated, but then felt guilty despite herself. Part of her wondered whether the flare-ups were psychosomatic? There was a third alternative though.

Paul was against confronting Lesley until the time was right. He casually remarked that the whole holiday debacle would sort itself out. Chances are it would be cancelled last minute anyway.

In fact, the night before the trip…. Lesley rang up in the most dreadful pain and Paul seized his opportunity. This was the night of reckoning. The journey over was in complete silence. They both knew what had to be done.

“I’m so sorry”. Lesley said when they walked through the door.

“Bullshit”.

“Paul –that’s my mum, you’re talking to. I won’t have it any more; I really won’t! Not after what she’s been through.”

“After what? Don’t make me laugh! She’s a fucking menace!”

“I told you this would happen, Jane.” Lesley played her part perfectly. She was out to milk this, but Jane was having none of it either.

“Oh, shut up, mum. I’ve had enough. All I hear is your moaning; putting him down; the hardships… everyone else at fault except yourself… well, I’m sick of that as well!”

Even Paul was taken back by this, Jane was really laying into her mum. “I was really looking forward to this holiday and now you’ve ruined it!”

Almost on queue Lesley collapsed, her legs just giving way.

“Mum!” Jane cried out, catching her. They both carried Lesley to the sofa and sat her down carefully.

“I’m so sorry, Jane –I really am. I know how much you were looking forward to the holiday. I didn’t want you to know how much pain I was really in, but it was too much; I just don’t want to spoil it for you. You both should go without me.”

“I can’t just go without you, mum. I’m so sorry for doubting you. Let me have a look at them.” Lesley lifted up her dress so they could see the red scabbed welts on her legs. Lesley had done a damn good job on them; they looked so realistic.

Now was his chance.

“I’ve had enough. I’m calling your bluff, Lesley. I’m not having this anymore.” He got down on his knees before they could do anything about it. He picked an area on her legs that looked particularly fake and rubbed it with his handkerchief, hard. Lesley screamed out in pain and kicked him away with all her might.

To his horror the scab was real and rivulets of blood started to flow from the wound. There was a glint of triumph in Lesley’s eye but only Paul could see it. Jane slapped him hard and ran for the first aid kit.

“You’ve done it now, Paul. Thank you… I couldn’t have planned it better myself.” She said, a rictus of triumph across her face.

“I was so sure….”

“Thank God you chose the left leg, Paul. The trick is showing people what they expect to see, remember. The right leg had the make-up done…. It’s over now.”

“How right you are, mum.” Jane replied from the doorway. “For you it is over.”