Chapter 7
i.
"Please don't tell anyone" begged Kyle, breaking the silence and wiping angrily at his tears with the heel of his hand, "Please Pheebs… I can't have anyone knowing about this… Not even Tam."
"I won't tell anyone" she assured him, "I won't."
They sat side by side, resting their backs against the shower cubicle, and he had his head on her shoulder. She really didn't know what to say to him, other than 'sorry' and that it 'wasn't his fault'. Those old clichés. What could she say that would make any of this any better? She'd taken his hand, while he was talking before, and started stroking the skin between his thumb and forefinger with small circular movements of her own thumb. She hoped that it might be helping to soothe him in some way, but she doubted it. He was still softly sobbing, and his body gave a shudder every now and then, as they sat there in silence.
She could hear the party still going on outside and worried that someone would come to use the toilet soon. She knew that Kyle was in no shape to face anyone out there, and she wanted more than anything to protect him, and stop anyone from asking him questions that he wasn't ready to answer. Someone needed to look out for him.
She glanced sideways at his pain-ridden face, all puffy and tear-stained, and her heart truly ached for him. He just looked so small and vulnerable. She was still in shock. He had just put some truly terrible images in her head and she feared that she might never be able to get them out again. It made her feel sick to her stomach to think of what he'd been through. Poor Kyle! She looked at him and she wondered what he'd looked like as a child when these terrible things had been happening to him. On second thoughts, she was glad that she didn't know. She didn't really want to be able to picture him being hurt like that. As she looked at him now, she wished that there was some way to go back in time and change things for him. She wanted so badly for this not to have happened to him.
So many things suddenly made sense! He'd always been so closed when they were together, so angry and defensive, and in the end, it had gone a long way to causing their break up. She'd never been able to get him to talk to her about his childhood and she'd always felt that he was holding a lot of himself back. Being with someone but not knowing anything about their background meant that you were always being kept at arm's length. She just wished that he would have opened up to her earlier. Maybe it would have saved their relationship.
"What are you gonna do about Melbourne?" she asked a little cautiously as she turned to look at him. She tilted her head at him and gave him as reassuring a smile as she could manage. "I'll come with you if you want?" she said, giving his hand a little squeeze.
"I'm not going!" he blurted out, eyes wide with fear as he let go of her hand. "I can't! I'm not doing that!"
He started to clamber to his feet and looked in the mirror at his red and puffy complexion. 'Fuck! …Just man up!' he silently scolded himself, as he turned the tap on and threw cold water in his face.
He was hoping that it might make him look vaguely presentable and that he could still go back out there without people knowing. But looking in the mirror, he could see that that wouldn't be possible. His eyes were red and bloodshot and his face was terribly blotchy. People would take one look at him and know that he'd been crying. And he couldn't take people asking him what was wrong. He'd have to get out of the house for a while, somehow.
"I have to get out!" he said, breathing a little too heavily again.
"Kyle, wait" she said, now on her feet and looking at him in the mirror, "We can…"
"I have to go!" he repeated a little breathlessly. He spun around to face her. "Can you tell Tamara that an alarm went off at Angelo's and I've gone to sort it out?"
"Uh" said Phoebe, but before she got a chance to answer, he'd opened the door and charged through the hallway towards the front door. He ran past the guests, shielding his face with his hand as best he could.
Phoebe, leaned with her back against the sink, breathing out a shuddering sigh. She'd been trying not to show Kyle how much his story had affected her, but now that he was gone, her eyes filled up with tears and she began to sob. Poor Kyle! She just couldn't get it out of her head! How could he have hidden this from everyone for so long?! He must have been hurting so much! She hated that he'd had to deal with this all on his own.
She ran her fingers through her hair and turned to check her makeup in the mirror. She gave a nervous laugh out of shock, when she saw how much her mascara had run, and she began to wipe at her puffy panda eyes frantically in the mirror. She knew that she needed to hide this, for Kyle's sake, more than her own.
"Pheebs?" said Ash, standing in the open doorway and looking at her with concern.
He'd just seen Kyle run out the door, with his face all puffy and red as though he'd been crying, and now here was Phoebe, clearly very upset too. He wasn't sure what to make of it. He'd noticed that they'd gone missing some time ago, and he'd been trying to extricate himself from a conversation with Marilyn, to go and check where they were, but that woman just wouldn't shut up! His every instinct had been telling him that Phoebe was cheating on him with Kyle, but seeing her upset like this, he wondered now if Kyle had done something to hurt her. Why had they been in the bathroom together?!
"What did he do?!" growled Ash, jumping to completely the wrong conclusion. "If he's hurt you…"
She spun around and looked at him in shock.
"Kyle didn't do anything!" she snapped at him.
She could see that he was a little hurt, and she felt bad, so she smiled a little and gave him an apologetic look. She walked over to him and put her arms around him, leaning her head against his chest as she began to cry again.
"Sorry… Can you just hold me… please Ash?" she asked, looking up at him all teary eyed and clearly shaking. "I just really need a hug."
He looked at her tear-stained face and a rage began to build inside him. He was sure now that Kyle had hurt her. She just seemed so shaken and upset, and the way she was clinging to him was very out of character. Phoebe didn't cry that easily, so he figured that something big must have happened in here to freak her out so much. A thought began to take shape, growing into more and more of a certainty in his mind, that Kyle had forced himself on her. He held her tightly in his arms with his chin resting on the top of her head, and decided that as soon as Phoebe was feeling a little better, he was going after Kyle. He was going to find him and kill him with his bare hands.
After a few minutes, he pulled away from her, and gently lifted her chin so he could look at her face again.
"Are you sure you're okay?" he asked, with love and concern in his eyes.
He really hoped it wasn't true.
"I can go and get Nate…" he offered in a worried way, as he wiped gently at the tears on her face with his thumbs. Then he lowered his voice to not much more than a whisper, and said, "Or Hannah… if you want… y'know… a woman?"
Phoebe furrowed her brow at him and pulled away from him a little violently.
"I told you, Ash! Kyle didn't do anything to hurt me! He would never hurt me!"
She was angry now, partly at Ash for being such a Neanderthal, and partly at the injustice of this whole thing. If she was honest with herself, she was mostly angry that Kyle had had such a terrible childhood, and that people had done such appalling things to a person that she truly loved and cared about. She hated this ugly world sometimes.
She knew that she shouldn't be taking her anger out on Ash, but in this moment, there was a fury burning inside her and she needed to let it out. He just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time…
"That's what it always comes down to with you, doesn't it?!" she shouted at him. "Sex! It's always about sex with you! And ownership!"
"What?! But… but... I…" he stammered, "Pheebs?"
"You know what, Ash?! Some people have real problems!" she shouted at him, "Some people are going through terrible things… just… terrible things! …Things that no-one should ever have to deal with!"
She narrowed her eyes at him and shoved him hard in the middle of the chest.
"But you wouldn't understand that, would you?!"
She stormed past him out into the hallway, and out the front door, forgetting that she was supposed to cover for Kyle with Tamara. She needed to find him.
Ash watched her go with a hurt and confused expression on his face. He didn't understand what had just happened. All he'd been trying to do was protect her. He ran what she'd just said over in his head, and he felt his stomach begin to churn, as he landed on one particular sentence. 'People are going through terrible things'? He wondered if she meant Kyle or herself.
What if Phoebe was ill? Maybe that's why Kyle had been so upset. He felt hurt that she would confide in Kyle, and not him, if that were the case. But mostly he was just worried now. He tried to think if there had been signs that he had missed in the last few weeks that would point to her being unwell. She'd complained of a headache a few nights before, and a stomach ache a few days before that, so his mind took him down all sorts of frightening avenues. What if Phoebe was really sick? What if she was dying?!
Andy walked out to the hallway and found Ash standing there, white as a sheet, and looking thoroughly dazed.
"Mate, you right?!" asked Andy, putting his hand on his friend's shoulder and tilting his head at him in concern. "You don't look too good!"
"Gotta go!" said Ash, suddenly coming back to his senses and racing out the door.
He needed answers and he wasn't going to get them standing there in that hallway. Andy watched him leave and shook his head knowingly. That was the third person he'd seen race out that door in the last ten minutes. Something was obviously kicking off. He sighed and wondered what dramas were about to unfold now. 'Why couldn't people, including himself, just keep it in their pants?' he thought to himself with a wry smile, as he headed to the bathroom.
ii.
Kyle sat huddled in the scrubby sand dunes just above the beach, hugging his arms around his knees, as he stared out into the distance at the blackened water. The moonlight was giving the water a blue sheen, and everything looked so peaceful… In sharp contrast to the utter turmoil in his head.
He wondered what the police in Melbourne wanted to speak to him about. He didn't think that he'd be able to tell them anything useful. Nothing that they didn't already know.
A cursory glance at the basement he'd lived in would have told them what kind of place it was. The rooms upstairs, with the recording and lighting equipment, would have answered any other questions that they might have had. The stacks of video tapes and DVDs, and folders upon folders of photos, lining the walls of the main bedroom, would have wiped away any remaining doubts. The house would speak for itself. The walls would echo with the misery and the suffering of all the children that had passed through its doors over the years. Its foundations were soaked in the blood and the tears of young and vulnerable children. And it appeared now that it had even served as a graveyard for a great many of them. They couldn't look at that property and not have a pretty clear idea of how things had been. What did they need him for?!
He couldn't face talking to the police about it. He couldn't face the thought of having to answer their questions, and having to talk about the things that had gone on within those walls. He didn't think that he'd be able to get the words out, even if he wanted to.
He'd spent years trying to forget the fact that that place even existed. Tonight, had been the first time that he'd spoken to anyone about it, and putting it into words had been more painful than he'd ever imagined. The shame that he felt had been overwhelming.
He'd thought that talking to Phoebe might help, but it had just made him feel so much worse, and he wished now that he could go back in time about an hour, and zip his own mouth closed. Phoebe had been kind and sympathetic, but he could see from the way that she'd looked at him after, that something had changed forever, and their relationship would never be the same again.
She would always see him as a victim now, and that wasn't the way that he wanted to be seen. He couldn't stand to see the look of pity in her eyes, but even that hadn't been the worst thing. He'd seen the disgust there too. The utter revulsion on her face when he'd told her what happened. He'd been very economical with the truth, shielding her from the gorier details, but even so, she'd obviously been ashamed of him. Disgusted at the thought of the things he'd had to do. He couldn't blame her for reacting that way. He was ashamed of himself after all, why should she be any different?! He'd obviously been right not to tell Tamara.
But what about the cops?! They'd want to know everything! If he couldn't talk to one of his oldest friends about it, how was he meant to talk to total strangers?! The thought of police officers listening to those details, and judging him, and pitying him… It made him feel sick to his stomach. It was nobody else's business but his, and he was going to take what he knew to the grave with him. It wasn't like he could help anyone anyway.
He didn't even know where the house was! He'd never been back there, and he didn't think he'd even been outside until the day that they'd come to take him away. That had been the most terrifying experience of his entire life… and that was really saying something! Thinking back on it now, it felt like being abducted by aliens.
Simon had dragged him upstairs into the blinding light of day, something that he wasn't used to at all, and handed him over to total strangers. The car that they'd taken him away in might as well have been an alien spacecraft. He couldn't remember ever having been in one before. The blur outside the window, and the unfamiliar motion of the car, had caused such intense nausea that he'd vomited all over the woman sitting beside him. Repeatedly.
That house that they were showing on the news now, had been the only thing that he'd ever known, or that he could remember, but he didn't think he'd ever seen it from the outside until that day.
To be ripped away from everything that he knew, however bad it was, had felt like the worst thing to ever happen to him. Like a bereavement. He'd suddenly been dragged out into a world so vast that he couldn't begin to comprehend its size. There were no walls, no ceiling, and it was far too bright! Distances seemed so huge, and there were so many people everywhere, and everything was moving at enormous speed. It was nothing short of terrifying.
He'd looked at the people in the car, feeling almost certain that they were going to kill him. Kids had disappeared from the house all the time. One day they were there, and the next they weren't. He'd felt sure that this must be what had happened to them. People had just come and taken them away, and they'd never got to come back again.
He'd pulled his feet up onto the seat and hugged his arms around his knees. He'd had so many questions but he'd lacked the courage to ask them. He'd learnt that silence was always safer. Adults were depraved, scary, volatile creatures, who would often strike out without warning. It was better to stay quiet and do what he was told. And Simon had told him in no uncertain terms to keep his mouth shut. If they were going to kill him, then they were going to kill him, and there was nothing that he could do about it.
Still, so many questions whirred around his head with nowhere to go…
'Where were the walls? Where was his cell? Where was the basement that he'd called home for as long as he could remember? Who were these strange people, and what new tortures lay in wait for him in this enormous and scary world? If they were going to kill him, how were they going to do it… and was it going to hurt?'
That was the last time that he'd ever seen that house or anyone in it. He'd been loaded in a car and taken away, and that place that he'd called home, had gradually become a distant memory that he'd buried deep within himself. He'd tried to bury the memories too. The smells and sounds and sensations of that house of horrors. The pain. He'd tried with everything he had to erase it, but it had always been there, lurking in the background and festering like some sort of cancer in the back of his mind. Just waiting to strike.
Now all it had taken was one stupid news report to unearth it and bring it all back to him in vivid detail. With that police investigation underway, he was fairly sure that it wouldn't be long before they tracked him down. What was he going to do then?
iii.
"Kyle Braxton!" said Alf, standing over him as he blinked in the bright sunshine.
He was carrying his fishing gear and was on his way to his favourite spot when he'd spotted a body lying in the dunes.
"What's a respected businessman like you doing sleeping on the beach?!" asked Alf, in a teasing tone. "Bit too much to drink last night, eh?"
He reached out a hand to Kyle and pulled him to his feet, dusting the sand off his back in an affectionate sort of way.
"Well, I'd be lying if I said that we hadn't all been there!" he chuckled.
"Thanks Alf" said Kyle, hiding his discomfort as best as he could, and pretending to be hungover for effect.
He dusted down his clothes and squinted at the watch on his wrist.
"Oh God! Alf! Tamara's gonna kill me!" he said, taking off across the sand as fast as he could go.
Alf watched him run, shaking his head and rolling his eyes at him.
"I'd get a move on, young fella!" he shouted after him. "Ailsa would have had my guts for garters!" he chuckled to himself as he went on his way.
iv.
"Oh, my God, Kyle!" exclaimed Tamara, as she held a screaming Noah in her arms and tried to manage a phone call at the same time. "It's okay, Pheebs. He's back… okay, bye" she said, dropping the phone on the couch.
She looked at him with concern.
"Kyle, are you okay?! What happened?! Do you have any idea how worried I've been?!"
"Sorry" said Kyle, fighting back the urge to start crying again. "I didn't mean to frighten you, Tam… Really, I'm so sorry!"
He came across the room and kissed her on the forehead, gently lifting Noah out of her arms, and placing him on his chest.
"Hey, c'mon little man… what's all this crying about?" he said to the tiny baby in his arms as he gently swayed him to and fro.
"Kyle…" said Tamara, as her big brown eyes filled with tears, "I don't know what's going on with you… First the nightmare, and then the panic attack… and now you disappear overnight… Is it the baby? Are you having second thoughts or something? I mean… Is it too much responsibility?!"
She wiped at her tears with the back of her hand and looked up at him with eyes full of hurt.
He looked at her in shock.
"How could you even think that?!" he asked, feeling like he was under attack. "Noah means everything to me!" he said, looking at his baby's fragile little body in his pale blue grow suit.
"What is it then, Kyle?" she asked, slumping on the arm of the couch in a defeated sort of way. "Please, baby, I love you, but I just feel like you won't let me in… Sometimes I feel like I don't really know who you are…" She tapped the side of her head with her index finger, "Not really… not in here".
He turned away from her, cradling their baby in his arms, and blinked back the wave of tears that was threatening to break… Looking at his baby boy, he knew that Noah deserved parents with a strong marriage. He wanted him to have the perfect family life that you only see on TV. If he was going to come anywhere close to having that, then something was going to have to give. He was going to have to let Tamara in, even if it terrified him. What kind of marriage would it be if he couldn't trust her? He couldn't continue to hold her at arm's length for the rest of their lives and expect for them to have a strong relationship. He was frightened to lose her but a relationship built on lies and omissions wasn't much of a relationship at all.
He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, trying to quell the rising wave of anxiety in his chest. This was it. He was going to have to do it. He was going to have to tell Tamara…
