Annie Goolahey
10-01-2008, 10:14pm
One of the strands of my third book deals with a woman who has been a victim of domestic violence. I'm just digging into her story now and have written the following snippet which is when she starts to replay what has happened to her in her mind.
I thought I would share
He hadn’t hit her before they were married. Her joy on her wedding day was real. Her love for him had been too. It was only afterwards, when they were both exhausted as first time parents, that he let his temper get the better of him. Eimear had been bawling all night and they’d both been exhausted. Being young was no consolation, with a job to go to the next day James wasn’t in the form for an interrupted night’s sleep and Ruth was exhausted from the day in / day out routine of being a new mother to the world’s most demanding infant.
“Sort that baby out,” James had grunted as he’d rolled over to fall back to sleep.
Ruth had felt tears prick her eyes. All she wanted was a full night’s sleep. She had done every night feed to allow her husband a good rest, but should Eimear dare to wake him he was like a bear with a sore head. Of course he’d only be awake until Ruth got up and quietened the baby down, while she was the one walking the floors downstairs, heating bottles and burping their daughter until her eyes were so heavy with sleep she became terrified she would fall asleep and smother her baby.
That night her spirit could take no more.
“Honey, can you do it? I’m so tired,” she’d said, her voice breaking.
She felt his body stiffen, his breathing growing deeper, but there was no response and Eimear was still crying.
“Please honey,” she pleaded, reaching out her hand to him and stroking his back gently.
He turned around and in what seemed like one swift movement he grabbed her wrist – hard – and pushed her back on the bed. His face close to hers, but all hint of intimacy missing, he told her that Eimear was her responsibility and if she didn’t sort the baby out right there and then she could spend the night, along with her child, in the garden. He had pushed her then, so that she fell out of the bed and crashed to the floor and as she fed her daughter shortly afterwards, feeling the bruising on her wrist and her legs she wondered what had just happened.
They were on edge, of course they were. Their happy existence of just Ruth and James had gone out the window and they were bound to get snappy, weren’t they?
He hadn’t meant it, he hadn’t mean for her to fall from the bed and when she climbed in beside him later he reached over and wrapped his arm around her.
“Sorry,” he muttered and fell back to sleep while she lay in the dark and promised to try harder to be a good wife.
The next time was a few weeks later. Eimear hadn’t been crying that time, but Ruth had been exhausted again from a day dealing with her. When James came in from work she offloaded her complaints to him until he had asked her to give his head peace. She had sat down, her pride hurt and her temper flaring. She tried to bite back her frustration but day dealing with a colicky baby had her at the end of her tether.
“So sorry to interrupting your busy day with worries about my sad little life here looking after our baby – who has been crying all afternoon. I’m sorry that I thought you might be interested or supportive or give a damn about what I’m going through.
“I asked you to give my head peace,” James said, his fists clenching.
“And I asked you to listen and to give a shit about us,” Ruth shouted, her temper finally breaking. But as her words reached a crescendo, she was silenced by a blow to the side of the face. It was so strong it knocked her against the wall. It was so strong it took the breath from her body and it was a good ten seconds before it came back. Gasping, unable to believe what had just happened, she stood up. Her cheek throbbed, and there was a ringing in her ears. All of this however was eclipsed by the thumping of her heart and the sobbing of her husband.
“Oh God Ruth, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
She walked across the room to where he was sat and crouched down beside him. Wrapping her arms around him she soothed his tears as he promised never, ever to do it again.
He lied.
I thought I would share
He hadn’t hit her before they were married. Her joy on her wedding day was real. Her love for him had been too. It was only afterwards, when they were both exhausted as first time parents, that he let his temper get the better of him. Eimear had been bawling all night and they’d both been exhausted. Being young was no consolation, with a job to go to the next day James wasn’t in the form for an interrupted night’s sleep and Ruth was exhausted from the day in / day out routine of being a new mother to the world’s most demanding infant.
“Sort that baby out,” James had grunted as he’d rolled over to fall back to sleep.
Ruth had felt tears prick her eyes. All she wanted was a full night’s sleep. She had done every night feed to allow her husband a good rest, but should Eimear dare to wake him he was like a bear with a sore head. Of course he’d only be awake until Ruth got up and quietened the baby down, while she was the one walking the floors downstairs, heating bottles and burping their daughter until her eyes were so heavy with sleep she became terrified she would fall asleep and smother her baby.
That night her spirit could take no more.
“Honey, can you do it? I’m so tired,” she’d said, her voice breaking.
She felt his body stiffen, his breathing growing deeper, but there was no response and Eimear was still crying.
“Please honey,” she pleaded, reaching out her hand to him and stroking his back gently.
He turned around and in what seemed like one swift movement he grabbed her wrist – hard – and pushed her back on the bed. His face close to hers, but all hint of intimacy missing, he told her that Eimear was her responsibility and if she didn’t sort the baby out right there and then she could spend the night, along with her child, in the garden. He had pushed her then, so that she fell out of the bed and crashed to the floor and as she fed her daughter shortly afterwards, feeling the bruising on her wrist and her legs she wondered what had just happened.
They were on edge, of course they were. Their happy existence of just Ruth and James had gone out the window and they were bound to get snappy, weren’t they?
He hadn’t meant it, he hadn’t mean for her to fall from the bed and when she climbed in beside him later he reached over and wrapped his arm around her.
“Sorry,” he muttered and fell back to sleep while she lay in the dark and promised to try harder to be a good wife.
The next time was a few weeks later. Eimear hadn’t been crying that time, but Ruth had been exhausted again from a day dealing with her. When James came in from work she offloaded her complaints to him until he had asked her to give his head peace. She had sat down, her pride hurt and her temper flaring. She tried to bite back her frustration but day dealing with a colicky baby had her at the end of her tether.
“So sorry to interrupting your busy day with worries about my sad little life here looking after our baby – who has been crying all afternoon. I’m sorry that I thought you might be interested or supportive or give a damn about what I’m going through.
“I asked you to give my head peace,” James said, his fists clenching.
“And I asked you to listen and to give a shit about us,” Ruth shouted, her temper finally breaking. But as her words reached a crescendo, she was silenced by a blow to the side of the face. It was so strong it knocked her against the wall. It was so strong it took the breath from her body and it was a good ten seconds before it came back. Gasping, unable to believe what had just happened, she stood up. Her cheek throbbed, and there was a ringing in her ears. All of this however was eclipsed by the thumping of her heart and the sobbing of her husband.
“Oh God Ruth, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
She walked across the room to where he was sat and crouched down beside him. Wrapping her arms around him she soothed his tears as he promised never, ever to do it again.
He lied.