Behind Closed Doors: A Novel
Behind Closed Doors: Chapter 17

I stare at Millie, the pills still in my hand, wondering if I’ve heard her correctly. ‘Millie, we can’t.’

‘Yes, can. Have to.’ She nods her head determinedly. ‘Jorj Koony bad man.’

Frightened of where the conversation is going and conscious of Jack waiting, I fold the pills back into the tissue. ‘I think we should flush these down the loo, Millie.’

‘No!’

‘We can’t do anything bad, Millie,’ I say.

‘Jorj Koony do bad thing,’ she says darkly. ‘Jorj Koony bad man, very bad man.’

‘Yes, I know.’

A frown furrows her brow. ‘But I come live with Grace soon.’

‘Yes, that’s right, you are coming to live with me soon.’

‘But I not live with bad man, I scared. So we kill bad man, we kill Jorj Koony.’

‘I’m sorry Millie, we can’t kill anybody.’

‘Agata Christie kill people!’ she says indignantly. ‘In And Then There None, lots of people die, and Mrs Rogers, she die from sleeping medicine.’

‘Maybe she does,’ I say firmly. ‘But they’re just stories, Millie, you know that.’

Yet even while I’m telling her that we can’t, my mind races on ahead, wondering if there are enough pills to at least knock Jack out long enough for me to escape. Common sense tells me that even if there are enough, the chances of being able to get them into him are almost negligible. But despite what I’ve just told Millie, I know I’ll never be able to flush them down the toilet because they represent the first glimmer of hope I’ve had in a long time. But I also know that whatever I decide to do with them—if anything—Millie can’t be involved.

‘I’m going to flush the pills away,’ I tell her, walking into one of the cubicles. As I flush the chain, I quickly stuff the tissue up my sleeve but immediately panic when I realise that Jack will see the bulge and ask what it is. Fishing it back out, I look up and down my person, wondering where I can hide it. I can’t put it in my bag, because Jack always checks it before I put it away, and hiding it down my bra or knickers is out because he always watches me undress. Stooping, I slip the scrunched-up tissue into my shoe, wedging it firmly into the toe. It’s difficult to get my shoe back on and I know it’s going to be even more uncomfortable once I start walking, but I feel safer with the pills hidden there than on my body. I have no idea how I’m going to be able to get them out of my shoe if a time comes when I feel I can use them but just knowing they are there gives me comfort.

‘Grace stupid!’ Millie says furiously, as I come back out. ‘Can’t kill Jorj Koony now!’

‘That’s right, Millie, we can’t,’ I agree.

‘But he bad man!’

‘Yes, but we can’t kill bad men,’ I point out. ‘It’s against the law.’

‘Then tell police Jorj Koony bad man!’

‘That’s a good idea, Millie,’ I say, seeking to soothe her agitation. ‘I’ll tell the police.’

‘Now!’

‘No, not now, but soon.’

‘Before I come live with you?’

‘Yes, before you come to live with me.’

‘You tell police?’

I take her hand in mine. ‘Do you trust me, Millie?’ She nods reluctantly. ‘Then I promise I’ll replace a solution before you come to live with me.’

‘Promise?’

‘Yes, I promise,’ I tell her, fighting back tears. ‘And now you must promise me something. You must promise that you’ll continue to keep our secret.’

‘I like Jack but I don’t like Jorj Koony,’ she intones, still upset with me.

‘Yes, that’s right, Millie. Now, let’s go back out and see Jack. Maybe he’ll buy us an ice cream.’

But even the thought of an ice cream, one of Millie’s favourite things, isn’t enough to lift her spirits. When I think about how proud and excited she’d been when she handed me the carefully wrapped pills, how clever she’d been to replace a solution to the desperate situation we’re in, I hate that I can’t tell her how amazing she is. But despite the surge of hope I’d felt when I placed the pills in the toe of my shoe, I don’t see how I’ll be able to use them.

The walk to the nearby park, and the ice-cream van that is parked there, is so uncomfortable because of my squashed toes that I know I’m not going to be able to spend the next three hours walking around. Millie is so downcast I’m worried Jack will guess that something transpired between us during our time in the toilets and start asking questions that she won’t know how to answer. In an effort to distract her, I ask her which flavour ice cream she’s going to choose and, when she shrugs unenthusiastically, Jack’s appraising look tells me that even if he hadn’t noticed before, her change of spirits has now caught his attention. Looking for a way to distract him, and to brighten Millie’s mood, I suggest going to the cinema, which will also get me off my feet.

‘Would you like that?’ Jack asks, turning to Millie.

‘Yes,’ she says unenthusiastically.

‘Then we’ll go. But first, Millie, I want to know what happened in the toilet.’

‘What you mean?’ Caught off guard, Millie is defensive.

‘Just that you were happy when you went into the toilet and miserable when you came out,’ he says reasonably.

‘I have period.’

‘You knew that before you went in. Come on, Millie, tell me what happened to upset you.’ His voice is encouraging, coaxing and, sensing Millie hesitate, I feel a prickle of fear. It’s not that I think she’s suddenly going to blurt out to Jack about the pills, but he’s so good at manipulating people I’d be stupid not to be afraid and, in the mood she’s in, Millie is more likely to let her guard down. As well as that, she’s angry with me. I turn my head towards her, hoping to be able to warn her with my eyes to be careful but she refuses to look at me.

‘Can’t.’ Millie shakes her head.

‘Why not?’

‘Is secret.’

‘I’m afraid you’re not allowed to have secrets,’ Jack says regretfully. ‘So why don’t you tell me? Did Grace say something that upset you? You can tell me, Millie. In fact, you have to tell me.’

‘She say no,’ she says, shrugging.

‘No?’

‘Yes.’

‘I see. And what did Grace say no to?’

‘I tell her kill Jorj Koony and she say no,’ she says darkly.

‘Very funny, Millie.’

‘Is true.’

‘The thing is, Millie, even if it is, I don’t believe that’s why you’re in a bad mood. I know you don’t like George Clooney, but you’re not stupid, you know very well that Grace can’t kill him. So I’ll ask you again. What did Grace say that upset you?’

I cast around quickly for something that sounds genuine. ‘If you must know, Jack, she asked if she could come and see the house and I said no,’ I say, sounding exasperated.

He turns towards me, understanding exactly why I want to keep Millie away from the house.

‘Is that so?’ he says.

‘Want to see my bedroom,’ Millie confirms, looking at me to show me she has understood what I want her to say.

‘Then so you shall,’ Jack says with a flourish, as if he is granting her a wish. ‘You’re right, Millie, you should be allowed to see your room. In fact, you’ll probably love it so much you might ask to move in with us at once rather than go back to school. Don’t you think that might be the case, Grace?’

‘Is yellow?’ Millie asks.

‘Of course it is.’ Jack smiles. ‘Come on, let’s go to the cinema—I’ve got quite a bit of thinking to do.’

At the cinema, I sit in the darkness, glad that nobody can see the tears that spring to my eyes when I realise how reckless I’ve been. In telling Jack that Millie had asked to see her room, because I couldn’t think of anything else to say, I may have brought the danger that is awaiting her even nearer. After what she told me in the toilets, about not wanting to live with Jack, I doubt she would ask to move in with us sooner than later, as Jack had suggested she might. But what if Jack suggests it himself? After the remark he made last night about being tired of waiting, I wouldn’t put it past him. And what reason would there be to say no? What excuse could I come up with to keep Millie safely at school? Even if I found one, Jack would never back me up. I steal a glance at him, hoping to replace him absorbed in the film, or asleep, but the look of quiet satisfaction on his face tells me he’s already realised that inviting Millie to the house might be to his advantage.

The knowledge that I’ve set something that is potentially dangerous to Millie in motion horrifies me, as does knowing that I have no way to stop it. Just as the hopelessness of my situation threatens to overwhelm me, Millie, seated on the other side of Jack, bursts out laughing at something on screen and I know that I have to save her, at whatever cost to myself, from the horror Jack has in store for her.

The film over, we drive back to the school to drop Millie off. Janice is already there and, as we say goodbye, she asks us if we’ll be coming back the following Sunday.

‘Actually, we thought we’d bring Millie down to the house instead,’ Jack says smoothly. ‘It’s about time she saw where she’s going to be living, don’t you think so, darling?’

‘I thought you wanted to wait until all the work had been completed,’ I point out, trying to keep my voice steady, appalled that he has made his move so quickly.

‘It will be by the weekend.’

‘You said my bedroom not finished,’ Millie says accusingly.

‘I was joking,’ Jack explains patiently. ‘I wanted your visit to us next weekend to be a surprise. So how about we pick you up at eleven o’clock and drive you down. Would you like that?’

Millie hesitates, unsure of what she’s meant to say. ‘Yes, I like,’ she says slowly. ‘I like to see house.’

‘And your bedroom,’ Jack reminds her.

‘Is yellow,’ Millie says, turning to Janice. ‘I have yellow bedroom.’

‘Well, you’ll be able to tell me all about it when you get back,’ Janice tells her.

The fear that Millie might not get back, that Jack will invent a broken-down car to keep her with us, or simply tell Janice and Mrs Goodrich that she has asked to stay on with us, makes it difficult for me to think straight. Aware of how little time I have to act, my mind races, looking for a way—not of stopping the ball from rolling, because it’s too late for that—but of diverting it from its path.

‘Why don’t you come too?’ I hear myself say to Janice. ‘Then you can see Millie’s bedroom for yourself.’

Millie claps her hands in delight. ‘Janice come too!’

Jack frowns. ‘I’m sure Janice has better things to do with her weekend.’

Janice shakes her head. ‘No, its fine, in fact I would love to see where Millie is going to live.’

‘Then could I ask you to bring her down?’ I ask hurriedly before Jack can dream up a reason for Janice not to come.

‘Of course I will! It would be silly for you and Mr Angel to drive all the way here only to go back again. It’s the least I can do. If you just give me your address …’

‘I’ll write it down for you,’ Jack says. ‘Do you have a pen?’

‘Not on me, I’m afraid.’ Janice looks at my bag. ‘Do you have one?’

I don’t even pretend to look. ‘Sorry,’ I say apologetically.

‘No problem, I’ll just pop and get one.’

She leaves. Painfully aware of Jack’s eyes boring into me, I’m unable to answer the questions Millie fires excitedly at me about her forthcoming visit to our house. His fury at the way I’ve invited Janice along is tangible and I know I’m going to have to come up with an excellent and believable reason as to why I did. But if Janice brings Millie down, there is the unspoken assumption that she’ll be going back with her and therefore less chance for Jack to manipulate things so that she ends up staying on with us.

Janice returns with pen and paper and Jack writes down our address and hands it to her. She folds the paper and puts it in her pocket and, maybe because she’s used to us cancelling things at the last minute, confirms that the invitation is for the following Sunday, 2 May. When I hear the date, something occurs to me and I replace myself grabbing at it with both hands.

‘I’ve just had a thought—why don’t we make it the Sunday after instead?’ Millie’s face falls and I turn to her quickly. ‘Then we’ll be able to celebrate your eighteenth birthday at the same time. It’s on the tenth,’ I remind her. ‘Would you like that, Millie? Would you like a party in your new house?’

‘With cake?’ she asks. ‘And balloons?’

‘With cake, candles, balloons, everything,’ I say, hugging her.

‘What a lovely idea!’ exclaims Janice, as Millie squeals in delight.

‘It will also give us time to get the house completely finished,’ I add, thrilled at the way I’ve managed to buy myself more time. ‘What do you think, Jack?’

‘I think it’s an excellent idea,’ he says. ‘How very clever of you to have thought of it. Now, shall we go? It’s getting late and there’s something we need to do tonight, isn’t there, darling?’

Dread replaces the joy I felt only minutes before at having outsmarted him, as he can only be referring to one thing. Not wanting him to see how much his words have affected me, I turn and kiss Millie goodbye.

‘We’ll see you next Sunday,’ I tell her, despite knowing that Jack will never allow me to come in view of my invitation to Janice. ‘Meanwhile, I’ll start getting things ready for your party. Is there anything special you’d like?’

‘Big cake,’ she laughs. ‘Very big cake.’

‘I’ll make sure Grace makes you the most beautiful cake in the world,’ Jack promises.

‘I like you, Jack,’ she beams.

‘But you don’t like George Clooney,’ he finishes. He turns to Janice. ‘In fact, she dislikes him so much that she asked Grace to kill him.’

‘Not funny, Millie,’ Janice frowns.

‘She was joking with you, Jack,’ I say calmly, knowing that he understands just how much Millie hates being reprimanded.

‘Still, you shouldn’t joke about things like that.’ Janice is firm. ‘Do you understand, Millie? I wouldn’t like to have to tell Mrs Goodrich.’

‘I sorry,’ says Millie, her face crestfallen.

‘I think you’ve been listening to too many Agatha Christie stories,’ Janice goes on sternly. ‘No more for a week, I’m afraid.’

‘I shouldn’t have said anything,’ Jack says contritely, as tears well up in Millie’s eyes. ‘I didn’t mean to get her into trouble.’

I bite back the angry retort that springs to my lips, surprised that I had even thought of contradicting him. It’s something I stopped doing long ago, especially in public.

‘Well, we really must be off,’ I say to Janice instead. I give Millie a last hug. ‘You can think about what dress you’d like to wear to the party and tell me when I see you next week,’ I tell her, hoping to cheer her up.

‘What time would you like us to arrive on the ninth?’ Janice asks.

‘Around one?’ I say, looking at Jack for confirmation.

He shakes his head. ‘The earlier the better, I think. Besides, I can’t wait to show Millie her room. So why don’t we say twelve-thirty?’

‘Lovely,’ Janice smiles.

In the car on the way home, I brace myself for whatever is to come. Jack doesn’t say anything for a while, perhaps because he knows that the anticipation of his anger is sometimes, but not always, worse than the event. I tell myself that I can’t afford to let fear muddle my thinking and concentrate instead on replaceing a way of deflecting his fury. The best way, I decide, is to make him think I’ve given up, that there is no hope left and I take comfort from the thought that my lethargy over the last few months, which I’d been berating myself for, might actually have served me well, as a slide into total apathy won’t seem so contrived.

‘I hope you realise that you’ve made everything much worse for yourself by inviting Janice along,’ he says when he feels he’s let me sweat enough.

‘The reason I invited Janice along is so that she’ll be able to report back to Mrs Goodrich that our beautiful house is perfect for Millie,’ I say tiredly. ‘Do you honestly think that the school where Millie has lived for the last seven years is going to wave goodbye to her without checking up on where she’s going?’

He nods approvingly. ‘That’s very noble of you. But now I have to ask myself why you should choose to be noble, given the circumstances.’

‘Because I suppose I’ve accepted that there’s nothing I can do to prevent the inevitable,’ I say quietly. ‘I think I realised it long ago, actually.’ I let a sob choke my voice. ‘For a while, I honestly thought that I would be able to replace a way out. And I tried; I tried so hard. But you’ve always been one step ahead of me.’

‘I’m glad you’ve realised it,’ he says. ‘Although I must admit that I’ve missed your futile attempts to escape from me. They were amusing, if nothing else.’

The small glow of satisfaction I feel at having out-manoeuvred Jack is precious. It gives me the confidence that I can do it again, that I can turn a bad situation around and turn a negative into a positive. I don’t quite know where I’m going to replace the positive in Millie coming to the house for lunch, but at least it is only lunch. Her inevitable delight when she sees the house will be hard enough to bear during the few hours she’ll spend with us. To have to endure it for any longer when I know what Jack has in store for her, and when I don’t know if I’m going to be able to replace the solution that I promised her, is unimaginable.

My throbbing toes make me want to ease my shoe off but I don’t dare for fear I won’t be able to slip it back on easily when we arrive at the house. In the light of her imminent visit, the pills Millie gave me take on a new importance. I had planned to leave them safely tucked into the toe of my shoe, until the time came when I could use them, but I no longer have time for such luxuries. If I am ever to use them, I need to get them into my bedroom, where they will be more easily accessible. But with Jack watching my every move, it’s going to be almost impossible.

I use the rest of the journey to consider what I can do. The only way the pills are going to be of any use to me is if I manage to get enough of them into Jack to render him unconscious. But if getting them into my bedroom seems impossible, administering them to him seems even more so. I tell myself that I can’t afford to look that far ahead, that all I can do is take one step at a time, and concentrate instead on the present.

We arrive at the house and, as we’re taking off our coats, the phone starts ringing. Jack answers it, as he always does, while I wait obediently, as I always do. It would be no use me carrying on up the stairs to try to take the pills from my shoe because Jack would simply follow me.

‘She’s fine today, thank you, Esther,’ I hear him say and, after a moment of puzzlement, the events of the previous evening come flooding back and I realise Esther is phoning to see how I am. He pauses a moment. ‘Yes, we’ve just walked in the door, actually. We took Millie out for lunch.’ Another pause. ‘I’ll tell Grace you called. Oh, of course, I’ll pass her to you.’

I don’t show my surprise when Jack hands me the phone, but the fact is I am surprised, as he normally tells anyone who asks to speak to me that I’m unavailable. But I suppose that as he’s told Esther we’ve just walked in the door he could hardly say that I was in the shower or asleep in bed.

‘Hello, Esther,’ I say cautiously.

‘I know you’ve just got in so I won’t keep you long, but I wanted to see how you are, you know, after last night.’

‘I’m fine, thank you,’ I tell her. ‘Much better.’

‘My sister had a miscarriage before having her first child so I know how emotionally draining it can be,’ she goes on.

‘Even so, I wish I hadn’t inflicted my disappointment on all of you,’ I say, aware of Jack listening to what I’m saying. ‘It’s just that it was hard hearing about Diane’s pregnancy.’

‘Of course it must have been,’ Esther sympathises. ‘And I hope you know that if you ever need anyone to talk to, I’m here.’

‘Thank you,’ I say. ‘That’s kind of you.’

‘So how was Millie?’ she asks, obviously eager to add a bit of cement to our growing friendship. Ever wary of her inquisitive streak, I’m just about to wind up the conversation with ‘She was fine, thank you for calling, I’m afraid I have to go, Jack’s waiting for his dinner,’

when I decide to keep talking, as I would if I was living a normal life.

‘Very excited.’ I smile. ‘Her carer, Janice, is bringing her down for lunch the Sunday after next so that she can see the house at last. She’ll be eighteen on the Monday so we’ll be having a little celebration for her.’

‘How lovely!’ Esther enthuses. ‘I hope you’ll let me bring around a card for her.’

I’m about to tell her that we would prefer it to be just the four of us this first time but that she’ll be welcome to meet Millie once she’s moved in, when it dawns on me that she will never get to see Millie. If everything goes as Jack wants, she will have to be kept out of sight, because how could he let anyone see her when he intends to keep her prisoner? And when he can no longer stall the people who ask where Millie is with pretend illnesses, he will say it didn’t work out, that Millie was too institutionalised to adapt to living with us and, as a result, has moved into a wonderful new home at the other end of the country. From being out of sight, Millie will quickly pass to being out of mind and I realise that the more people who meet Millie, the harder it will be to keep her hidden away. But I need to be careful.

‘That’s very kind of you,’ I say, making sure to sound hesitant. ‘And you’re right, Millie really should have a proper party for such an important birthday. I know she’ll love to meet your children.’

‘Goodness, I certainly didn’t mean to suggest that you should be giving Millie a party, or that you should invite Sebastian and Aisling along!’ Esther exclaims, sounding embarrassed. ‘I just meant I would pop in quickly by myself with a card.’

‘Why not? Diane and Adam have always wanted to meet Millie.’

‘Honestly, Grace, I don’t think any of us would want to intrude.’ Esther sounds more confused than ever.

‘Not at all. It’s a very good idea. Shall we say three o’clock? That’ll allow me and Jack to have lunch with Millie and Janice first.’

‘Well, if you’re sure,’ says Esther doubtfully.

‘Yes, it will be lovely for Millie,’ I say, nodding.

‘I’ll see you on the ninth, then.’

‘I look forward to it. Goodbye, Esther, thank you for phoning.’

I put the phone down, steeling myself.

‘What the hell was all that about?’ Jack explodes. ‘Have you really just invited Esther to some sort of birthday party for Millie?’

‘No, Jack,’ I say wearily, ‘Esther decided that we should give Millie a proper party and then invited herself and the children along. You know what she’s like—she almost ordered me to invite Diane and Adam along as well.’

‘Why didn’t you refuse?’

‘Because that kind of role doesn’t come easily to me any more. I’m too used to being perfect, to saying the right thing, just as you’ve wanted me to do. But, if you want to go ahead and un-invite them, please do. Our friends may as well get used to the fact that they’re never going to meet Millie. Didn’t Moira and Giles say they couldn’t wait to see her? What excuse are you going to give them, Jack?’

‘I thought I’d tell them that your parents suddenly realised how much they missed their beautiful daughter and that she’s gone to live with them in New Zealand,’ he says.

Horrified at exactly how much he intended Millie to be out of sight and mind, I’m determined that the party for Millie will go ahead.

‘And what if my parents decide to come over for Christmas?’ I ask. ‘What will you do if they turn up here, expecting to see Millie?’

‘I doubt very much that they will and anyway, maybe she’ll have given up and died before then. Although I hope not—it would be most inconvenient if she only managed to last a few months after all the trouble I’ve gone to.’

I turn away abruptly so he can’t see the way the colour has drained from my face and the only thing that stops my legs from giving way beneath me is the murderous rage that has filled my heart. I clench my fists and noticing, he laughs. ‘You would just love to kill me, wouldn’t you?’

‘Eventually, yes. But first, I’d like you to suffer,’ I tell him, unable to help myself.

‘Not much chance of that, I’m afraid,’ he says, seeming amused by the thought.

I know I have to keep focused, that the chances of Millie being a flesh-and-blood person to our friends rather than someone they only know about second hand are slipping away fast. I also know that if Jack suspects I want the party to go ahead, he’ll phone Esther back and tell her that we prefer it to be a private gathering.

‘Just cancel the party, Jack,’ I say, sounding as if I’m close to tears. ‘There’s no way I could sit through it and pretend that everything is fine.’

‘Then it is the perfect punishment for inviting Janice in the first place.’

‘Please, Jack, no,’ I plead.

‘I do so love it when you beg,’ he sighs, ‘especially as it has the opposite effect that it’s meant to. Now, up to your room—I have a party to prepare for. Maybe it’s not such a bad idea after all—at least once people have actually met Millie, they’ll be even more impressed by my generosity.’

I let my shoulders slump and drag my feet as I walk up the stairs in front of him in what I hope is a perfect picture of dejection. In the dressing room, I take off my clothes slowly while my mind looks for a way to distract him so that I can take the pills from my shoe and hide them somewhere on me.

‘So, have you told the neighbours that as well as having a manic-depressive wife, you have a mentally retarded sister-in-law?’ I ask, slipping off my shoes and beginning to undress.

‘Why would I have? They’re never going to meet Millie.’

I hang my dress back up in the wardrobe and take my pyjamas from the shelf. ‘But they’ll see her in the garden, when she’s having her party,’ I say, putting them on.

‘They can’t see into our garden from their house,’ he points out.

I reach for the shoebox. ‘They can if they’re standing at the window on the first floor.’

‘Which window?’

‘The one that overlooks the garden.’ I nod towards the window. ‘That one over there.’ As he turns his head, I crouch down, place the shoebox on the floor and pick up my shoes.

He cranes his neck. ‘They wouldn’t be able to see from there,’ he says, as I prise the tissue from my shoe. ‘It’s too far away.’

Still crouching, I tuck the tissue into the waistband of my pyjamas, place the shoes in the box and stand up.

‘Then you’ve got nothing to worry about,’ I say, putting the box back in the wardrobe.

I walk towards the door, praying that the tissue won’t slip from its hiding place and spill pills all over the floor. Jack follows me out and I open my bedroom door and go in, half expecting Jack to pull me back and demand to know what I have stuffed into my waistband. As he closes the door behind me, I don’t dare believe that I’ve actually managed to pull it off, but when I hear the key turning in the lock, the relief is so great that my legs give way and I sink to the floor, my whole body trembling. But because there’s always the possibility that Jack is only letting me think I’ve got away with it, I get to my feet and slide the tissue under the mattress. Then I sit down on the bed, and try to take in the fact that I’ve achieved more in the last fifteen minutes than I have in the last fifteen months, acknowledging all the while that, if I have, it’s thanks to Millie. I’m not shocked that she expected me to kill Jack because murder is commonplace in the detective stories she listens to and she has no real idea of what it means to actually kill someone. In her mind, where the line between fact and fiction is often blurred, murder is simply a solution to a problem.