WARNING: This does concern an issue which some might find upsetting, and it isn't recommended for under 18's. Contains reference to violence.
Sorry it's so bleak, but I read 'Reunion' for the first time recently, and this seemed like an 'accident' too far, particularly given what Joey herself says. Any feedback is appreciated
Italicised text is taken from the book.
“All I can tell you is that I was in the den before Mittagessen when I heard a series of screeches, interspersed by loud thuds, and I rushed out just in time to see her ladyship turn a somersault on the bottom step and cannon with a terrific crash into the dower chest. The girls were over at school and Anna was outside hanging up some washing so she didn’t hear a thing. I carried Joey up to bed and there she stays for the moment.”
“She isn’t badly hurt, is she?”
“Well, she’s got the headache to end all headaches and the most magnificent black eye I ever saw.”
It was a full week before Grizel saw Joey again, for that young woman refused to appear in public looking like a prize-fighter.
“People would start giving you a reputation as a wife beater,” she calmly informed Jack.
He mused on this in his study, once the youngest of his terrific brood were in bed, and Joey had settled down to read quietly until he came up. She had complained of the lingering traces of her headache at breakfast this morning, and her smashed ribs still caused her pain if she tried to do anything too heavy, but she was, for the large part, better.
Of course, everyone knew about his legendary temper. More than once his brother-in-law had unhelpfully tried to interfere, and Madge, too, had commented on it. Joey knew better, though. She would never bring up the subject again. She had tried, at the start of their marriage, but she was a quick learner, and her lesson had been well and truly brought home.
He’d come close to being discovered over that affair with Mike some years ago. What Jem had said to him then struck home, but if it kept him from losing his temper badly with the children after that, Joey was another matter. Of course, it was easier with her to keep it a secret. She had so many accidents and adventures that it was nothing out of the ordinary for her to be out of action, and she doted on him so. She would never give him away, hence her latest banishment to bed.
Lying had come easily to him for some time now. He wasn’t sure, but at times it seemed he could read in Len’s eye the realisation of his untruths, and even dreamy Con occasionally glanced at him, startled. But outsiders saw only the respected doctor, the famous healer, the honourable man who had saved so many. He couldn’t lose his reputation now.
He hadn’t been in the den. Taking the chance of Anna being outside, he had gone to confront Joey about an unexplained cheque which had been spent some three days previously. She, of course, had been unable to give a satisfactory explanation, although she mumbled something about needing a new typewriter ribbon. He fancied the more likely explanation was that the new vase in the hallway she promised had been a gift from Daisy Rosoman she’d simply forgotten to put out was actually the cause of the spending. He’d seen in Margot Joey’s fancy for new trinkets which left her unable to resist buying them.
At this, he’d seen red. The vase wasn’t even a nice one, and he should have been consulted before she went out and spent his hard earned money. They’d been near the top of the stairs when he caught up with her. She must have been able to tell what was coming, because she half turned, her hand reaching out wildly for the banister, when he watched himself push his weight forwards.
His hands connected with the base of her spine, and for a second he had contact with her. Then she’d jerked forwards, her body plummeting to the bottom, her shrieks echoing through the narrow staircase. He stood and watched for a few minutes, even when she was lying, still, at the bottom.
He wondered if he would care should she be dead. She wasn’t irreplaceable; Anna could oversee the house, Rösli the coadjutor could look after the children. She’d always surrounded herself with staff, in the mistaken belief that they could somehow save her from being hurt, but all they’d done was make her more dispensable than ever. But, once he’d calmed down slightly, he approached her and checked her pulse. She was alive.
After that his training had kicked in and he’d gotten her safely to bed. But every time he did it, every time she pushed him into hurting her again, he hated her more, he wanted more than ever to lash out at her. He’d never been able to control his temper, he never would, but Joey had known that when she married him. She knew what she was letting herself in for. It was her fault if she made him angry.
Unable to finish his paperwork, haunted by the face of the wife he adored, he sighed and made his way up to bed. She was waiting for him, and put down her book as he approached. Her eye had faded now, though there were lingering traces of a bruise on her ribs. He was startled to see a hint of fear about her. That wasn’t the Joey he knew. Joey understood him, she forgave him. She didn’t stare at him coldly before she turned the light off. She didn’t make him apologise for what he had done.
For a second, it hung on his lips. Then he realised that it was pointless doing so. They both knew that he would lose his temper again. Promises otherwise were mere memories, of days when they were young and carefree. Now they both knew he would never stop.
All they could do was wait for the next time Joey had an accident.
