Page 140 of Worse Than Murder
‘But you’re not, though, are you?’ I ask, turning back to Lynne. ‘You’re at home, alone for most of the day. You spend your time cleaning the house, making meals for Iain, making sure his clothes are washed and ironed and everything is perfect in the house for him.’
Tears are streaming down Lynne’s face, but it’s devoid of emotion. She can’t speak. She nods.
‘Why did you give up being a midwife?’
She shakes her head.
‘Tell me, Lynne. Why did you give up your dream job?’
She opens her mouth to speak but a torrent of tears is released. ‘Iain made me,’ she cries.
‘Oh God, Mum, what are you saying?’
‘When you were young, Alison, just after Celia and Jennifer were taken, you were sent to stay with your aunt and uncle for a while. Your aunt is your mum’s sister. Tell me, do they ever visit each other?’
Alison shakes her head slowly as reality begins to dawn.
‘Why not?’ I ask Lynne.
Lynne wipes her tears with the blanket. ‘Iain says I don’t need them. He says I only need him.’
I turn to Alison. ‘For the past thirty years, your mother has been living in a coercive relationship. Iain has manufactured her entire life. He forced her to give up her work. He forced her to work on the paddocks when he needed her to, and he forced her to keep the house perfect for him. Whenever she goes out, he’s with her. Always. I’m right, aren’t I?’
Lynne nods. She turns to her daughter. ‘I’m so sorry, Alison.’
‘Why? Why didn’t I see it?’ Alison asks.
‘Because you were too close. Because it happened so gradually and after such a massive tragedy over such a long period of time, that nobody noticed.’
‘But… why? Why would he do that? He loves Mum.’
‘He doesn’t. There’s a very fine line between love and hate. They’re both extreme emotions and it doesn’t take much for someone to switch between the two. I believe Iain did love your mum, years ago, when they were first together. But then Iain told Lynne that he couldn’t have children. And all Lynne wanted was to be a mother. She dumped him for Jack, and he had to sit back and watch as they fell in love, got married, and had a family. A family that Iain believes should have been his.’
I allow a silence to descend. Alison is in shock as she looks back over the past thirty years and tries to fit all the pieces together. Lynne looks as if life has been drained from her.
‘Iain hated Jack, didn’t he, Lynne?’ I ask.
She nods.
‘Jack suffered with depression. It wasn’t talked about as much in the nineties as it is now, and men certainly didn’t talk about their feelings back then, especially sons of farmers, who are real proper masculine men. I’m guessing Jack will have told his father he felt sad at times, and I assume someone like Granville will have laughed and told him to pick himself up, stop being soft and be a man.’ Lynne is nodding through all of this. ‘And that made Jack feel worse. His depression, untreated, deepened and he isolated himself, took himself off to bed for days on end. That fuelled Iain’s hatred even more. He was wondering what Jack had to be depressed about when he had a wife and kids, something he craved more than anything.’
‘I didn’t…’ Lynne can hardly get her words out. She’s shaking. She can’t control her tears. ‘I didn’t want to… sleep with Iain…’
‘Oh my God!’ Alison cries. She increases her hold on her mother.
‘It was New Year,’ she continues. ‘Jack was in bed. He had been, on and off, for most of Christmas. The girls were all in bed asleep. I was in the living room on my own. Ten o’clock on New Year’s Eve, Iain came over with a bottle of sherry. I don’t even like sherry. He kept filling my glass. I didn’t know what was happening until it was too late to stop him.’
‘And after that he forced you to keep sleeping with him or he’d tell Jack. And you went along with it, because you knew how fragile Jack was.’
She nods.
‘Mum, I’m so sorry. I’m sorry I didn’t see… I didn’t notice…’ Alison is crying into her mother’s shoulder.
‘Can I come in?’
We all look up to see Tania in the doorway.
‘That Porsche is going to get stolen the way you’ve left it in the middle of the road,’ she says, coming fully into the living room. ‘I’ve just come from the restaurant. It’s practically destroyed. Claire Daniels has been attacked. What’s going on?’ she asks, looking at everyone in turn.
