Chapter 6 The Love of Man
Constance lay in bed, thinking about the tales that Matt had told her the evening before. He had lived more by the time he was 20 years old than she had in all her 34 years. Truth be told, she also didn’t get up straight away because she was a bit hungover from all the gin of the previous evening. Matt’s stories had been interesting and compelling, so the early evening had dragged on late into the night. All in all they had consumed quite a lot of gin. Probably well over her limit. Nonetheless it had been well worth it. Constance was learning more and more about the life and times her father had lived in, and the sort of things he, too, had probably got up to. She wished that she could have had some interesting adventures in her life. It was true that on paper she had done things that could appear to be interesting. She was, after all, living in Spain, and she had also lived in Dublin, but in her actual life, the living part of it, she felt like she hadn’t really experienced anything of great interest. Her life just seemed to revolve around the mundane. Or better put, sometimes her life seemed to revolve around her hiding from life. Keeping her head down, trying to minimize the damage she seemed to create wherever she passed. As she tiredly rubbed her eyes, she knew that all that was waiting for her outside her comfy bed was the cold reality of her flawed life, with its damaged relationships.
She glanced with anguish at her phone. At the bar, with Matt, she had put it on silent mode, and on her way home she had seen a lot of missed calls, and messages, from Jeff. She had been too tired to deal with all his anger and spite, so she had left the phone on silent mode. At some stage she would have to deal with him, and his latest bout of stupid jealousy about her friendship with Matt. Maybe she could just leave the phone on silent mode forever? A life free of all the colossal problems that seemed to come out of such a little object. That would also solve the headache of her mother’s incoming calls. No phone, no calls. With a sigh, she dragged herself out of bed, and into the bathroom, carefully avoiding looking at herself in the mirror. Why did bathrooms always have mirrors anyway? What was it about cleaning yourself, being naked, being in your most vulnerable state, that would make you want to look at yourself in a mirror? Wouldn’t it be better to have mirrors only by the front door, so that you could view the polished article after you had had time to prepare yourself before going out? Wouldn’t that make more sense? When you got yourself out of bed in the morning, that was always going to be the worst you would look all day. Did they really have to rub it in by placing a mirror there to capture you in your semi-coherent, disheveled state of early morning? Why weren’t there mirrors in kitchens? You could watch yourself artfully preparing some exotic dish, capturing flourishes as you added alluring colourful spices. Was that asking too much? No, they were just in bathrooms, so you could see yourself in all your early morning glory. She needed coffee. After all the alcohol from the night before Constance didn’t feel that she could face eating anything, probably just a few pieces of soothing white chocolate, but she definitely needed caffeine before facing the day, and all the wrath that would inevitably come with it. She made herself a strong cup of coffee, chewed on some delightful chocolate, and sat down, in her dressing gown, to plan her strategy with Jeff. Reluctantly she looked at her phone, deciding that she had better at least read all the messages, just to see exactly what kind of mood Jeff was in, as it she didn’t know already. Before she could even get to the first of what looked like a long list of messages, the phone lit up with an incoming call. With a startle, she saw that it was from Jeff. Her plan of strategy building lay by the wayside. She had been outfoxed. She had been caught on the hop, without having had time to work out a plan of attack. Or, more realistically, of defense. Constance didn’t feel that she had any other choice than that of answering what she knew would be a strenuous call.
‘Hi Jeff, I…’
She was immediately interrupted by his angry voice.
‘Just where the fuck have you been? I imagine that you spent the night at his place. That’s why you’ve been avoiding my calls. You slut! After everything I’ve done for you. You really are some kind of…’
‘No, Jeff, it wasn’t like…’
‘Don’t interrupt me, you bloody slag, and I don’t want to hear any excuses from you. I warned you about that bastard, and you fell right into his trap, didn’t you? You bloody slut! I told you that he was up to no good, but would you listen to me? Oh no, missy smartarse pants has all the answers. You’re a bloody idiot. I hope you feel ashamed of yourself, you stupid whore!’
The line went dead.
Constance started crying. Why could she never be able to explain herself to anyone? If people would just give her the time to explain what she was doing , and why, she was sure that they would understand. For some reason she just wasn’t able to adequately explain her actions. Why was that? What was wrong with her? They just never gave her enough of a chance to explain herself fully. Then the perfect solution came to her. She would write Jeff an email, explaining everything. She would tell him that she loved him, and that she only wanted to find out from Matt what life had been like for her father back in the old days. To find out the sort of life he had lived, no matter how briefly, before he had been taken from her. If she had a medium where she had time to express herself calmly, without the possibility of being interrupted, she was sure that she could convince him that nothing untowards was going on, and that their relationship was only an innocent friendship. At that point there didn’t seem to be any need to read all his messages. Constance canceled them without reading them. She had fairly well understood the situation, without the need to batter her head relentlessly against the wall. After such an unpleasant start to the day she was almost looking forward to seeing Grace. The lesser of two evils. In fact she would seek her out. She would poke her tongue out at her, and tell her that she was a mean old witch, who scared children merely by her presence. In great sadness Constance prepared herself for work. She knew that it was going to be a long, difficult day.
Tears were never far from her eyes. Even the little children of her first class could tell that something was wrong with her. She bravely assured them that everything was fine, and that she just had a bit of an allergy, causing her eyes to water. Luckily Grace was nowhere to be seen. Constance’s proposed bravado towards Grace had rapidly gone down the drain by the time she had reached the school. It had been replaced by her usual fear of making stupid mistakes, just when Grace was there to see her in all her foolish majesty. The last thing she needed was for Grace to put in the boot as well. She felt that she had already been punished enough for one day. In the half hour break she had between her first two lessons she wrote a long email to Jeff, explaining everything clearly, and with great precision. She told him how much she loved him, and that she hoped their relationship would last forever. A strange feeling came over her as she wrote that. Did she really love him? Or did she just really need him? With all his moods, and his fairly obvious infidelities, did she really want to spend forever with him? Shrugging off her doubts, she finished her email. If nothing else she really did want to explain her friendship with Matt, and that there was nothing going on between them. That was important to her, that Jeff understood that she had always been faithful to him. The ball was in his court now, she would wait to see what kind of response her email provoked.
The long days passed with only a deafening silence from Jeff, which left Constance terribly worried that maybe it was too late to mend fences with him, and that he didn’t want to see her again. She felt scared of having to face life on her own. Then, unexpectedly, the doorbell rang on Friday evening. With a mixture of excitement and trepidation, Constance ran to open the door. Jeff wandered in, a scowl on his face, and a half empty bottle of cheap wine in his hand. He was obviously drunk. Constance tried to be as nice as she could.
‘Jeff, it’s so nice to see you. Thanks for coming over.’
Without answering Jeff put the wine bottle down on the kitchen top, and turned to Constance.
‘Come on then, get over here.’
He grabbed her roughly, and bent her over, face down, on the dining table. He pulled her loose fitting dress up, and yanked down her panties. Before Constance could understand what was going on, Jeff was violently fucking her.
‘Is this how the old guy did it? Fucking you from behind, the senile old bastard.’
Jeff’s voice was full of hatred. With every violent thrust of his penis, his anger just seemed to grow.
‘Did you enjoy it, you slut? Being fucked by an old man? Did he have a big cock? I bet you sucked him off, as well, didn’t you, you slut! Well, did you?’
Constance was crying. Through her tears she answered him.
‘No, it’s not true, he’s just a friend. It’s not like that, Jeff, I love you. I would never do anything like that to you.’
Finally, after thrusting intensely, Jeff climaxed. Some of his anger seemed to abate.
He zipped up his pants, grabbed the bottle of wine, and poured out a glass for himself. If Constance wanted some wine she would have to get it for herself. Constance, meanwhile, pulled up her panties, and tried to stop crying. She desperately wanted to explain the situation with Matt to Jeff.
‘Like I said in my email…’
‘Listen, Connie, I haven’t come here to listen to your bullshit. Just tell me. Did you fuck him?’
‘No! No! We just talked about his experiences in Australia when he was young. I promise you!’
‘Well, first off, you will never see him again. Is that understood?’
‘But, Jeff, it’s a way for me to find out how my father…’
Jeff started shouting wildly.
‘If you want to see me again, you will never see him again, is that understood?’
Constance knew that she would have to give in to Jeff’s demands, or it would really all be over.
‘OK, I won’t see him again. If that’s what you want.’
Constance instantly decided that she had to play it by ear. If she agreed with him, if she gave in to his demands, maybe later on, at some future date, she could talk him around.
‘This wine is shit. Do you have anything decent to drink?’
‘I’ve got a lovely bottle of Rioja, I’ll get us a couple of glasses.’
While Constance opened the wine, and poured out two glasses, Jeff sat down on the couch, and put his feet up. He rubbed his forehead.
‘Is everything alright, Jeff?’
‘You just wouldn’t believe the shit I have to face every day at work. I’ve just about had it there, I’ll tell you. Anymore of their shit, and I will be out of there.’
Constance, relieved, went into automatic mode. Even though she was still fighting back the tears, and terribly worried about the promise she had made concerning Matt, she felt pleased to be back on more stable ground. She knew what Jeff wanted from her.
‘They really don’t deserve you there. They should realise how lucky they are.’
Constance sat down and pretended to listen to Jeff, as he rolled out his usual list of things that aggrieved him. She was desperately trying to fight back the tears. She didn’t want to anger Jeff again. She didn’t know if she would be able to really give up her friendship with Matt. Not only was she discovering the sort of life her father had lived, and the kind of person he must have been to have done those things, she was really becoming good friends with Matt. He was such a nice, kind person. And there weren’t many of them in her life. She had come to think of him as a great friend of her father’s from the old days, and she was discovering her father through him. She knew that that was slightly silly, after all, they probably had never met, but for Constance that was the closest she had ever been to knowing her father. In her thoughts she imagined that her father had been sitting around with Matt and his friend when the police had burst into their flat. From what Matt had said all hippies seem to have been hated by the police, so no doubt that was true of her dad as well. Her mother had always been so prim and proper, it was strange to think of her dad as having been a social outcast. Just how did they meet? How had it been possible for two such different people from two such different backgrounds to have got married, and to have had a little baby together? Had she been responsible for their marriage? Was it because her mother had gotten pregnant after a drunken one night stand? As the ludricrous thought of that came to her she almost spluttered out the wine she was drinking. Her mother having a drunken one night stand. Jeff looked at her with a flash of anger in his eyes.
‘What the fuck, Connie?’
Constance knew that she had to cover her back, and she knew just how to go about that.
‘I was just thinking about what a total bastard that Henderson is.’
She had no idea what Jeff had been saying, she had been miles away, but criticising Henderson was always going to go down well.
‘You’ve got no bloody idea how much, I’ll tell you.’
Jeff got up, and headed towards the door.
‘I’m sick of all this shit wine. I’m going into town with the boys to drink something stronger.’
Without a further word he left. Constance sat where she was, and let the tears flow. Her body ached all over, especially in her private parts, after the aggressive way Jeff had made love with her. Had they really made love? Had that been love making, or had she been raped? She hadn’t said no, so technically it can’t have been rape, but it also would be hard to describe it as having made love with your partner. Constance hated her life, but most of all she hated herself. She just couldn’t seem to get anything right. No matter what the situation, it always seemed to end up badly for her. Now she had even promised not to see Matt ever again, and her evenings with him had started to become the best thing in her life. The only flickering candle of enjoyment in her otherwise miserable life was being blown out by having a bucket of cold water thrown on it. She went to the fridge and took out a full bar of chocolate. That would be her dinner, chocolate washed down with wine. Chocolate garnished with tears.
Constance had obeyed Jeff for over a month, and had not gone back to see Matt. It really made her feel sad, but she didn’t want to upset Jeff again, or risk losing him. Their relationship had settled back into its normal routine. It was a high price for her to pay, but she was scared of being alone, and having to face the world without the support of someone in her life. Although, really it wasn’t as if Jeff ever really cared much about what she was going through, but still, having someone seemed to make things easier. She often wondered if her father would have put such high demands on a woman in his life. She was sure that he would have treated women well, after all, the hippy movement was born out of love for humanity, equality, and all those noble things. Jeff just seemed to be so selfish, doing whatever he wanted to, with no regard at all for her. Initially he had kept a watchful eye on her, especially on Wednesday evenings, when she had usually had her chats with Matt, but as time had passed he seemed to have believed that she was obeying him, and he appeared to have relaxed his guard a bit. Obviously he believed that he was entitled to his private life, going off with his friends, drinking, and probably womanising, but she was to be kept on a tight leash. Constance realised how unfair it all was, but she just couldn’t stand the idea of losing him, and having to face Grace, and her mother’s constant disapproval without someone giving her support. Someone on her side. She had tried, minimally, to ask her mother about her father, and how they had met, but, as usual, she had never been able to get a word in sideways before her mother would shut her down, and return to her favourite subject. Marriage. To Jeff. Constance wasn’t even sure if she could cope with a lifetime of Jeff and his anger, and infidelities. Not that Jeff had ever broached the subject anyway. To both of them it just seemed to be something they were doing, without looking too far ahead. What Constance really wanted was to hear more stories about how her father had lived, all those years ago. The more time passed, the more she realised that she needed to find out more about her father, and his lifestyle. Who he had been. In some way she felt that by knowing more about the times he lived in, the better she would be able to understand him, and perhaps even understand more about how she should live her life.
With Jeff having relaxed his guard, Constance decided to sneak down to the bar on Wednesday evening, at their usual meeting time, to see if Matt was there. If he wasn’t there she could always leave a message with the barman, and arrange to meet another time. Maybe on a different evening? Just to throw Jeff further off the scent. She mustered all the courage she could find in her, and on late Wednesday afternoon she went to the bar where she usually met with Matt. Part of her was worried, terrified really, about Jeff catching her out, but another part of her was desperate for answers. Through discovering her father, she was sure she would discover herself. Who she was, where she came from. A set of rules she could use in her life. The bar was quite full, spring had turned into early summer, and the tourist season was kicking off. Constance couldn’t see Matt in the bar, but if he was there he would be out on the deck, for sure. She went straight through the bar, to the outside deck, overlooking the sea. There was no sign of Matt. Maybe it was too early for him? Possibly, since she hadn’t been there for about five weeks he had stopped coming at that time. She went to the bar, to ask the barman, Pablo, if Matt was still coming to the bar, and when.
‘Hello, Pablo, I don’t know if you remember…’
‘Hello! You are Matt friend. How you doing?’
Pablo was all smiles, at seeing her. Something that didn’t happen to her very often.
‘Pablo, I was wondering if Matt still comes in on Wednesdays, or maybe some other time?’
‘Not now. Matt gone on holiday. Back for New Zealand. I not sure how long he go for. You want the usual? A lovely gin?’
Constance felt like she had been slapped in the face. She knew what that meant. She did need a drink.
‘Yes, please. I will just sit here at the bar.’
While Pablo made her drink, Constance thought about the devastating news he had given her. When you go on holiday from Spain, or any European country, back home to New Zealand, or Australia, you would always go for at least a month, the trip was such a long one, not to mention the cost as well. Maybe even longer in Matt’s case, he didn’t seem to work. Constance had always assumed that he was on a private pension fund. He could be in New Zealand for months. Possibly he had gone to avoid the tourist throngs, but, whatever the reason, she knew he wouldn’t be back for a long time. She smiled at Pablo as he served her her gin, and gulped down almost half the glass in one go. She had a feeling of desperation that had taken hold of her. The one small candle of hope that had been lit in her dismal life had been blown out. Worst of all, it was her fault. As usual. By trying to placate Jeff she had lost out on the one good thing that had come into her life.
‘You alright, Miss Constant?’
Pablo looked at her with concern. Constance wiped the tears from her eyes, and forced out a smile for Pablo.
‘Yes, thanks, just a bit of allergy. I’ll have another one of these, please Pablo.’
She felt like there wouldn’t be enough drink in the world to drown out her sorrows. And worst of all, as usual, there was only one person to blame. Herself. She just couldn’t get anything right. Whatever mess her life was in, she would just go and make it worse. If nothing else, she would at least try and throw herself a lifeline. She wrote out a short message explaining to Matt that she hadn’t been able to come to the bar, but that when he got back she would love to meet up, and continue their conversations. She wrote her phone number on the note.
‘Pablo, could you please give this note to Matt, when he gets back?’
‘Sure thing, no worries.’
Constance sat on her second gin for a while, hating herself, and wondering if all she had to look forward to in her life was the same misery, over and over again. After a long period of self loathing, she paid for her drinks, and walked home. Dusk had arrived, and the streets were getting dark by the time she arrived home. She put her key in the door, and sadly entered her empty life. Suddenly she was pushed into her flat from behind, and fell to the floor.
‘You just couldn’t resist, could you, you fucking slut! I knew it! Do you think I trusted you? Well, did you?’
Jeff was standing over her, his face a mask of hate.
‘Jeff, he wasn’t even there, I just… ‘
‘You just what? You just fucked him? A quickie out in the carpark? You slut!’
As Constance was trying to get back to her feet, Jeff punched her on the side of her face. She fell back to the floor.
‘What did I tell you? What did I fucking tell you, you slut!’
Constance couldn’t reply. She could barely breathe. She had never been so scared in her life. She tried to crawl to the couch when Jeff kicked her viciously on her thigh. She lay there on the floor, incapable of moving, or speaking. Jeff grabbed her by her blouse, and pulled her head up. With his free hand he slapped her across her face.
‘Fucking slut!’
he slapped her again.
‘You’re nothing but a fat whore!’
Another slap. Jeff threw her back onto the floor.
‘You’re lucky I don’t really sort you out. You deserve much more than this, you slut. But make no mistake, this is just a lesson. The next time you see him, you will get the works, believe me.’
Jeff left the flat, slamming the door behind him. Constance lay there, in the semi darkness, too sore to move, too drained to even cry. She reached up, and took a cushion from the couch, which she placed under her head, and just lay there on the floor, battered and broken.
Constance looked at her face in the mirror, something she usually didn’t like doing, but this time she needed to analyse the remaining visible damage she bore. It was Monday morning, and she had no choice but to go back to work. After the brutal beating Jeff had given her on Wednesday evening, she had called in sick with the flu, and had been able to take the rest of the week off. But for how long could you drag out the flu? With the arrival of the new week, she had no choice but to go back in. Luckily she only had two lessons in the morning, and one later in the afternoon. With a bit of luck she would be able to avoid Grace, with a bit of luck maybe even for the rest of her life. Wouldn’t that be something, she thought. A life without ever seeing Grace. She turned her face from side to side, checking out the damage. She definitely looked a lot better than she had days before. You could still see bruising around the left eye, but she should be able to make up a story to cover that. She had walked into a door? It almost made her laugh. Should she go with something straight out of the Marx Brothers? Something so ridiculous it might well be believed? Or should she get a bit more inventive? She decided that definitely the latter would be more believable. She still had trouble walking, her right thigh was still very painful, after the vicious kick she had taken to it. Her thigh was still so bruised it was a deep purple colour, but she could cover that up with her dress. The real problem was that she couldn’t walk without limping. She needed an excuse that would cover both the problems. Maybe she would say that she had seen a dog drowning in the sea, and had heroically swum out to save it, sustaining a bit of damage in the process. She was sure that Matt wouldn’t mind her stealing his thunder, after all, it was all in a good cause. Can fat women swim out and save dogs? Probably not. Constance finally settled on something a bit more credible, something people would believe from a clutz like her. She had been taking down a curtain to wash, and had fallen off the stool she had been standing on. That would work wonders, especially considering the general opinion that most people had of her. At least Jeff had remained in silence since the brutal attack. Probably even he had realised the enormity of his actions. Although, she knew that she couldn’t expect an apology, and that if she went back to see Matt, who wasn’t there anyway, Jeff would be true to his word, and would give her an even bigger beating. Constance would have to put all thoughts of that aside, and just try to get through the day, without letting anything slip.
Even though it was just a short walk to the school it took ages for Constance to arrive. She had to walk with her right foot sort of bent sideways, to ease the pain. After painfully arriving at the school, she hobbled up the short flight of steps, and walked into the main corridor of the school. And straight into the lion’s lair.
‘Just what sort of a state is that to present yourself here? Obviously you were lying about having the flu, as I thought. You better have a good explanation for this young lady, or you will be out the door this time.’
Could nothing ever go her way? Not even once? The one day when she really needed to avoid Grace, and there she was, right in front of her. It just wasn’t fair. None of it. No matter how hard she tried, her whole life was just doomed to failure.
‘I was changing… I …then I fell off the stool…’
Constance burst into tears. She just couldn’t take any of it anymore. It was all just too much for her. She covered her face with her hands, and cried her eyes out.
‘Oh, dear God! Come here, my sweet little girl!’
Grace put her arms around her, and hugged her tight.
‘I know that look. Some scumbag of a man has beaten you, hasn’t he? Don’t you worry, my sweet little angel, I will look after you.’
Constance stood there, crying in Grace’s embrace. She could feel droplets of water dripping onto her shoulder, and sliding down her back. Grace was crying!
‘Come with me, Constance. Come into my office.’
Grace’s tone of voice was incredibly soft, and caring. Constance had never heard her speak like that. Grace led her to a chair, and helped her sit down. As Grace pulled another chair up close, and sat down. Constance saw her wiping the tears from her eyes. Grace put one hand around her shoulders, and with her other hand she gripped tight Constance’s hand.
‘I want to tell you something, Constance. You’re not alone. You’ve no idea how many of us have had the same treatment. Yes, that’s right. I’ve been through it, too. I married a bastard of a man! A real thug. I put up with it for years. And when he had been drinking? You’ve no idea. I would have left him years earlier, but I stayed for the sake of my son. He worshipped the bastard, God only knows why. I stayed to try and be a positive influence on him, so he wouldn’t turn out like his father. As soon as Michael left home, he had found a job down in London, I was out of there like a shot. That’s why I came over here. The only happy memories I ever had were from when I was young, coming over here on holidays with my friends. I got out. I got away from