In which Helen lets the beast out and destroys someone
Helen cannot answer. The bile rises in her throat. Something has gone wrong. She can hear her own voice, a child’s voice, crying in the agitated tone of betrayal from a long-deserted living room.
Refusing to heed it, she says carefully, ‘Did you have to tell her? I thought we agreed––’
The beast inside her is fighting its way up her gullet. She feels hotter, feverish, unable to hold out much longer. She shouldn’t mind Talie knowing all about her private business – it was not her fault, what happened all those years ago – but she has been stripped naked in public without warning and feels shamed.
Someone passing behind her knocks her shoulder – and that tiny moment of lost physical balance destroys her mental guard and the beast springs out, snarling and roaring for prey. Her voice rises over that of the animal.
‘How would you feel if I went round telling everyone you kept quiet about your dead baby – oh yes, I know… I read your diaries. But I haven’t said a word to anyone. I wanted to shield you from more hurt.’
People are turning to them, curious. Addison is moving towards them, only yards away. She rushes to finish what she is saying. Addison will get to them any moment. She is unable to stop herself.
‘I wasn’t being nosey either. I was reading Addison’s Bible – he said I could – and there it was in black and white: you knew that Steve had killed your baby and you kept quiet. You can’t do things like that. It’s against the law.’ She is no longer bothered by dates and possible subsequent actions. The beast is controlling her.
Addison is right beside Carla now, his face paling, his breathing raspy, his eyes wild. But Carla seems unconcerned. That can only mean she must already have told Addison everything that Helen has just exposed. Good. Now they can sort things out properly, if a crime has been committed. Her reading the private diary will be seen as a blessing, even welcomed, if they can now resolve the issue once and for all.
The beast is creeping away, satisfied. Calmness suffuses Helen’s bearing once more.
Carla takes Addison’s arm, squeezes it apologetically and addresses Helen. ‘I told Add to read the diaries, and,’ she throws him a glance, ‘you did, didn’t you?’ She turns back to Helen. ‘I didn’t keep any secrets from Add – I didn’t want anybody to be able to do to me what you’ve just done, Helen. I wanted to be free and that was the only way I knew how.’
A silence falls around them.
‘Carla…’ Addison can hardly speak; he is choking. ‘Carla, I never… I didn’t know, I didn’t read… I trusted God,’ and he starts to shake uncontrollably.
Helen wants to run – anywhere, as far away as possible – to hide from what she has done. But she is rooted to the spot, forced to see the end of what she has started.
He is looking wildly around. ‘I married you, I didn’t know…’ The rest of what he says is incoherent.
Helen hangs back from them. She is empty. She wanted to hurt Carla, and instead she has reduced Addison to this wreckage of a man.
