Even when the façade slipped and I saw his other side, I kept quiet. But it nagged at me, that too dazzled by the Matt she wanted to see, my mother was blind to the shadows and hairline cracks behind the illusion she trusted. Matt’s criticism was justified, he knew better than she did. And all relationships had their blips. Giving more of herself, Matt taking every last piece of her. But it was never enough.
I wonder if that’s how it was when she and my father were together. If she’d always wanted to see the best in people, had the same child-like need to feel validated. Whether she turnedaway from her problems, seeing them as failures, but I was too young to remember any of it.
Whether or not there was a pattern, Matt fooled her, just long enough, for her to see a different side to him. The thoughtful Matt given to grand gestures. When he gave her the ring that belonged to his grandmother, she was blown away. ‘I can’t believe he gave me this. Isn’t it beautiful?’
Made of dull gold, it was unlike the other jewellery she wore. Too heavy for her delicate hands. I wanted so much to love it, to share her joy, but as I looked at the ring, it reflected back an aura of coldness.
‘We’re getting married on a beach.’ Her eyes were shining and I felt my heart twist as she shared her dream, of wearing a simple dress, her bare feet in the sand. ‘Matt and I have been looking at Caribbean islands. I’ve found the perfect setting, Jess. It’s a small guesthouse on a Jamaican beach, with white sand and palm trees. Matt loves it too! It’s going to be so special! You and I need to go shopping for dresses!’
It sounded magical, but her excitement seemed unnatural and I couldn’t feel it. ‘Have you decided what colour, Mum?’
‘I’m not sure … Not white, but otherwise, I’m open to ideas. I want a dress that makes me feel like a princess for the day.’ Her eyes were far away. Knowing Matt represented the fairy tale, I felt myself shiver. Fairy tales were for children, not for women of my mother’s age. And there was no way Matt was a prince.
‘We’ll go shopping. I’ll help you.’ For her benefit, I tried to sound excited.
On the way to the shop, I tried to talk to her. Asked her if she was sure Matt made her happy. I’ll never forget her silence, before she answered.Happy enough, Jess. I never expected to meet anyone. I’m lucky.For a moment, I tried to see it through hereyes, to weigh up life with Matt versus life without him. Whether or not I liked him, it was her life and maybe it wasn’t my place to argue, if being with Matt was better than being alone.
So that day, I helped her pick out her fairytale dress in shades of dusky pink, mine simpler in soft grey. When we got home, her eyes were shining as she told Matt where we’d been; how we’d found perfect dresses for a beach wedding but how he’d have to wait until the big day to see them.
I remember watching the lines deepen across his forehead, then the look of incredulity that washed over his face, as he shook his head. I’ll never forget what he said. ‘Amy, we’ve talked about this. A beach wedding’s out of the question. We agreed. I can’t believe you’ve done this.’ A worried look on his face, he’d stood up and come over to her, putting his arms around her. ‘With so much on your mind, you’ve forgotten, that’s all it is.’
I watched her body turn rigid, before she pulled away, a look of confusion on her face. ‘Matt, no. The picture. Surely you must remember? We were looking at it only last night – of that beach in Jamaica – the guesthouse where they hold ceremonies under the palm trees. I emailed them to reserve the date. You were there when I did it. They emailed back, confirming the date. I’ll show you.’
Going over to the table, she got out her laptop, bringing up her emails, scrolling through them, her frown deepening. Then as she turned towards us, there was a look of confusion on her face. ‘I don’t understand. The emails aren’t there.’
‘Amy …’ Matt shook his head. ‘Try not to worry about it. Really. You’ve obviously forgotten the conversation we had. We definitely agreed. A beach wedding isn’t practical.’ But this time, his voice was firmer.
Then as he went upstairs, she looked at me. ‘I didn’t imagine it. I’m sure I didn’t.’ Her voice was quiet. ‘We’ll have to goshopping again – for shoes!’ Feigning brightness, masking how she was really feeling. ‘He’s probably right. The beach wedding was a nice dream, but it’s not practical.’ Behind her smile, her eyes were bleak.
The twisted dance between the narcissist and victim, both equally convincing. I didn’t want to believe that he’d set her up. But something told me that Matt was capable of anything. I wasn’t sure I’d ever forgive him, not just for breaking the magic of her fairy tale, but for lying. Lies my mother chose to ignore, because she loved him. And as she always said, if you loved, you could forgive anything.
But he didn’t know how to love her back. Once or twice I caught him texting on his phone, a look I couldn’t decipher on his face. Unable to hide his shock when he saw me watching, before glossing over it with one of his lies, about how he was helping an old friend who was having some problems. But when there was no evidence of any old friends in Matt’s life, I knew he was hiding something.
While I tried and failed to catch him out, in the background of our lives, distant thunder continued to rumble, now and then erupting into a storm, as Matt kept pushing my mother to sell our house and move to Hove or Brighton.
The memory of my mother’s voice, upset, is clear in my mind. ‘I don’t want to move. This is my house. I need the garden for my work.’
From upstairs, I heard the sound of broken china. I couldn’t tell if the plate smashed by accident or design, as he raised his voice.‘For fuck’s sake, Amy. We’re getting married and you’re talking about “my” house.’
My mother’s desperate reply. ‘I love this house, Matt. Everything I need is here.’
‘Don’t lie, Amy. You hate this fucking house. I thought we’dagreed we were going to share everything. I want to sell it and get away from here, but you don’t care what I want. It’s all about you.’
My mother didn’t hate our house. But my hands were over my ears, unable to bear hearing him speak to her like that, so that I missed her whisper in response.
The exchange unsettled me, as I applied reverse logic to what Matt had said, about it not being her decision to make, because it certainly wasn’t his. It had happened repeatedly, Matt bullying, my mother resisting, the situation spiralling, deepening my mistrust, until slowly it all started to make a warped kind of sense. If he forced her to agree, if they bought somewhere together, it would be in their joint names. That was the moment I understood it wasn’t her he wanted. It was her money.
I waited until Matt was out before confronting my mother. ‘You can’t go on letting him speak to you like that.’
Her face was ash-white as she shook her head. ‘You only hear part of the story, Jess. He gets upset easily. I don’t mean to, but I always seem to make things worse.’ Her eyes were troubled; unable to hide how upset she felt.
‘That’s outrageous,’ I cried. ‘You don’t do anything of the sort. Love shouldn’t be like this. He should be on your side. He should want you to be happy. But instead, he’s completely vile to you.’ I broke off. ‘Don’t sell the house. Not if you don’t want to. It’s your home. It isn’t up to Matt to decide. You have a say in what happens too.’
Seeing her stricken face, I wondered if a part of her agreed with me. But when she spoke, she sounded defeated. ‘I can’t sell the house.’ A look I couldn’t read had flickered in her eyes. ‘It’s our home. It’s where I work. It’s taken years to create this garden. If we moved, I’d have to start again.’
Why do you put up with this?I wanted to shout at her.Can’t you see how wrong it is?But I couldn’t hurt her more, not afterwhat Matt was already doing to her. Instead, I made her a silent promise.
I was under Matt’s spell – but not for long. I’m stronger than my mother. One day I’d catch him out. Then I’d do whatever it took to get her away from him.
