The Lightkeeper's Wife - By Karen Viggers Page 0,62
wrong. Reluctantly, she let him in. When he saw the bruise around her eye, it was as if he’d been struck himself. He knew exactly what was happening.
It had been a terrible afternoon. Leon tried to talk things through with her; he wanted her to leave right away. After all, if it had happened once, it would happen again. But his mother said that she and Reg had worked this out before and they could resolve it again. Leon hadn’t been so sure. His father was different now—so damaged and sullen. As a young man, leaving the drink behind had been possible, but now, with his life shattered, Leon couldn’t see any chance of reform. His mother would not be convinced. Between binges, his father was conciliatory, even charming. He loved her and she was certain he was trying hard not to let it happen again.
Leon had grown frustrated. He couldn’t understand why his mother refused to help herself; he was angry she hadn’t told him sooner, and he told her so. But when she cowered away from him, he felt remorse. His mother had endured enough without him adding to her pain. He calmed and reassured her, a lump of sadness welling in his throat.
Back in Hobart, his anxiety had increased. He rang her as often as he could, and he suspected the situation was deteriorating. Eventually he’d contacted Parks and found there was a job for a ranger on Bruny Island. The Parks service had been keen: his knowledge of the island would be useful. So he took the job and moved home. Someone had to be there to protect his mother.
Being there for her was a commitment that imposed on every corner of Leon’s life. It drained him, physically and emotionally. His father resented his presence in the house, which only added to the tension. And his father was erratic. One day he was charming and rational, and the next day he came home sinister and aggressive. His mother didn’t realise how much she feared him, but Leon could see the change in her each time his father came in. He could feel the air prickling. Fortunately, if the old man became threatening, Leon was strong enough to fend off most of the blows. But he couldn’t avoid them all, especially when he had to manhandle his father into the bedroom and hold him down while he roared and bellowed and filled the air with fists.
Leon always had a sense of guilt about his father’s rages, as if he were in some way indirectly responsible. By not insisting that his mother leave, Leon wondered if he was perpetuating the pattern of violence. Surely there would come a day when he was delayed at work and his mother was beaten again. By allowing her to stay, he was leaving her exposed to attacks. Maybe his continued presence was preventing his mother’s departure; if he hadn’t been there, perhaps his mother would have found the strength to leave.
He figured there must be some way to help his mother escape from Bruny; he lay awake at night trying to devise plans, but they all came to nothing. And he’d reached a point where his mother avoided talking to him—she was afraid he’d pressure her and disturb that semblance of calm she managed to arrange so carefully around herself.
Living at home with his parents was therefore the only solution, and Leon truncated his workdays to fit his father’s timetable. He had to be there when his father came home so he could take the blows that were destined for his mother. It was an untenable situation. It broke him apart. He didn’t want to hate his father, but the aggression left room for nothing but anger, and he carried it with him constantly.
15
Evening at Cloudy Bay was not a good time for Mary. Just when she ought to be relaxing and finding her way gently into sleep, she was gripped by urgency, and anxiety blossomed in her chest. Another day over and what had she achieved? Yes, she had managed to tick off Cloudy Corner, the farm and Clennett’s Mill today (getting all the way to Mount Mangana wasn’t possible, and at least she’d paid homage to the forest close to the mountain, so she decided to let that one go). But her list was not yet complete—she still had to visit East Cloudy Head and the lighthouse, the most important places in her pilgrimage . . . and God knows