The Trap
Ingrid Barnes
PART 1

Alice sat up in bed, mouth wide, silently screaming. She wildly clawed the air around her face, then, realising that nothing was there, she slumped, tears of relief and shock spilling from her eyes.

“Nick was in trouble at school again today, honey. The teachers are really worried about him, and so am I.”
“Don’t worry about it, Jane. He’s a teenager, they’re all like that. I’ll have a talk to him if you want, I’ll take care of it.” And his arm came snaking around her waist, squeezing her to him. It would be alright, Nick was just a teenager, and Jack would look after everything.
“So, what’s for dinner?”

Jane looked at herself in the mirror over Alice’s head. Her mousy hair was cut in a sensible bob. The grey strands no longer looked out of place. Her skin was mapped with tiny wrinkles. She looked tired. Turning back to Alice’s curls, she felt tired. Brushing them was such a pain when they got all tangled like this. She should just cut it all off, make it short like her own. She often though this, but something always stopped her.
“Why is daddy yelling at Nick?”
“Nick’s a teenager . . .”
“Is that’s why daddy’s yelling at him?”
“No, it’s just . . . don’t worry about it, okay. Everything’s alright. Daddy will look after everything.” There was a pause.
“Sometimes Nick cries at night.”
Jane had nothing to say. Her heart went out to her son, but Jack was looking after it. Jack would take care of it. Her strong man. Everything would be okay. She looked down and saw her daughter’s piercing blue eyes staring at her from the mirror. She turned away.

Alice played with her dolls. They were having a fight. The red haired doll was screaming at the brown haired doll. “You’re bad. I hate you. How do you get so dirty? You’re never home. You’re a teenager. Can’t you just SHUT UP?” The yelling doll jumped on top of the other, bashing it with its head and out stretched arms. Then both dolls suddenly jumped up and flew into the wall.

Jane slipped into bed. Jack pulled her close. She was safe and loved. So why didn’t she feel good? She rolled away from him. He sighed angrily and turned away. She couldn’t sleep. She tossed and turned, wrapping herself in the sheets and then fighting free. Everything felt wrong. But there was no reason for it to. Everything was okay. She crushed the feeling, she wished she could simply stop feeling or thinking. She curled up to Jack’s back.

Alice was trapped. White cotton-wool swathed her body, strapping her from head to foot, like an Ancient Egyptian mummy. She couldn’t pull the stuff away from her face, where it was slowly being sucked into her mouth and nose. It smothered her. She was suffocating.

Jane screamed. Still screaming she fell into a chair.
“Jane, what is wrong? What is the matter? Won’t you stop? Stop it Jane. Shut up. Snap out of it. JUST SHUT UP, Jane.”
Jack was shaking her and bellowing, his face bright red. She shut her mouth.
“For Christ’s sake woman, what is wrong with you, are you some sort of lunatic?”
“Read it. Read that,” she said, waving her arm weakly at the note on the grey marble kitchen bench. He picked up the scrap of white paper. It looked tiny in his huge hand.
“‘I’ve gone. I won’t be back. Nick.’ What the hell? The stupid kid! What has he done? When I get my hands on him I’ll break his fucking neck! How could he do this to us, to you? He almost gave you a heart attack. The ungrateful little shit!” He was shaking and swearing, little spots of spittle flying onto the marble bench top. Jane stood and pushed him down into the chair, massaging his neck and shoulders.
“It’s okay, Jack. It’s okay. It’s going to be okay.”
Her voice was high pitched, almost screaming. She scraped her teeth together and got a cloth to wipe the bench top. As she stood at the sink she glanced back at Jack, sitting in the chair, his eyes closed and the veins in his temples standing out from his red face. His hands were clenched in his lap. Behind him, the door was ajar. Eyes glittered in the darkness beyond, then vanished, and Jane heard the drumming noise of someone running up the stairs. Those stairs needed to be carpeted. God, why hadn’t they been carpeted? Why had no-one carpeted the stairs?

“Alice, can I come in?”
Jane looked around the door. Her daughter was sitting on the floor with her dolls. God, not the dolls again. Why the dolls? Couldn’t she play with something else? One doll seemed to be hitting the other. Well that’s one failing we don’t have, we don’t hit each other. And we never hit the children. A tiny voice asked her about the time when Nick had come out of Jack’s study with a black eye. He must have gotten it from school. Of course he got it from school, his school is so violent.
“Alice honey? I just wanted to say, about this morning, that I’m sorry. You shouldn’t have seen that. But it’s okay, Everything is going to be okay. Alright? And, um, Nick is not going to be living here right now, maybe for a while. Okay honey?” Alice turned and looked at her, with such anger in her eyes that Jane almost fell over. The two dolls jumped up and flew savagely towards her. Jane closed the door.

With shaking hands she picked up the phone.
“It’s my son, he’s gone missing. He’s run away.”
“He left a note?”
“Yes.”
“How old is your son ma’am?”
“Uh, 17.”
“I’m sorry ma’am, but he is old enough to leave home. There’s nothing the police can do for you.”
“Oh.”
“Well goodbye ma’am.”
“Yes, goodbye.”
The phone wouldn’t go straight onto its rest, it twisted around, pointing in the wrong direction. She sighed and gave up and dropped it. When it reached the end of the cord it hit the wall with a crack.
“For god’s sake Jane. What do you think you’re doing? That costs money, money that I earn.”
Jane turned her back on him and walked out of the room.

No-one told Alice to go to school so the dolls kept screaming at each other all day. “IT’S OKAY IT’S OKAY IT’S OKAY IT’S OKAY,” they screamed, hitting each other, hitting the wall. At about 11 o’clock, Alice felt hungry and went downstairs. She passed the study and looked in. Her father was working, just like every other day. She walked on. Sobs and small screams came from the bathroom. Her mother was cleaning it, like she did every Thursday but she didn’t usually scream while she did it. Strange. Jane looked up, tears streaming down her cheeks. Seeing Alice she covered her face with her hands.
“Shouldn’t you be at school?” she asked from behind her hands.
“Yes.” said Alice flatly and walked on.

Jane couldn’t see properly through her tears so she used glass cleaner on the tiles and tile cleaner on the mirror. They all did the same thing anyway, didn’t they? Every now and then the terribleness of the situation overcame her and she let out a little scream. She remembered every fight, every scream of “I hate you”, every phone call from school. Why hadn’t she done anything? She had thought it would all be alright. Be it wasn’t, was it? Everything wasn’t alright. Everything was terrible. She screamed. Last night when she had gone to say goodnight, she had seen the bags on the floor. She had seen them! She dropped her head into her hands, the tears falling into the basin.

They sat around the dinner table, the three of them, plus a doll with yellow hair which was sitting on the table in front of Nick’s chair.
“So, how was your day at school, Alice?” Jack asked, as was customary at dinner time. Only usually Nick was asked first.
“Alice didn’t go to school today,” said Jane quietly looking at her plate.
“What? Why didn’t she go to school?” Jack’s face was slowy turning red across the cheekbones.
“Jack, don’t. It’s been a hard day for us all.”
“No. Please explain why my daughter didn’t go to school today. I’m waiting.”
“Jack, why are you doing this? Can’t you just leave me alone. Just stop it!”
Jane’s vision was misted with red. She was so angry. Why was she so angry? Her eye’s flicked around the room. Her husband? No he loved her, he looked after her, she wasn’t angry with him. Her daughter? No, it wasn’t her. Her son? Where was her son? Why wasn’t he there? What is that doll doing there? WHY is that doll on the table? STUPID doll! Jane grabbed the doll from the table.
“I HATE YOU. I HATE YOU. JUST GO AWAY,” she screamed and threw the doll at the wall with all her strength then ran up the stairs. Why had no-one carpeted the stairs?

Jack sighed. His wife had cracked, she was going crazy. He glanced at his daughter. She was staring at him with those weird bright blue eyes. He didn’t know where she had got them, not from him, his eyes were brown. Jane’s eyes were blue, but sort of tired, not bright like that. It was creeping him out, why was she staring at him?
“What are you looking at?” he said gruffly.
She kept staring.
“I’d better get back to work,” he said, jumping up from his chair. As he climbed the stairs three at a time he looked back. She was still staring.

Jane lifted the phone from where it was hanging. She inspected it carefully. Didn’t seem too damaged so she dialled Nick’s mobile number.
“Nick?”
“Mum,” he said warily.
“Don’t worry, I’m not going to try and get you to come back, I just want to know where you are, that you’re safe,” she stuttered.
“I’m staying in a flat with some other guys. I’m working full-time at the café, but I’m looking for a better job. I can look after myself.”
“I know, I know. I’m sure you can do it better than I can. Nick, please tell me, did your father ever hit you?”
“Sometimes.” His voice was so faint that she could hardly hear him.
“Nick, you know I love you? You can always come back here if you want . . . oh, I know, you don’t need me any more. I love you. Goodbye, Nick.”
“Bye mum.”

PART 2

Everything was normal again, just minus Nick. It wasn’t fair. Sure, Nick was mean to her sometimes, but he was the only one in the whole house who talked to her properly. He understood the doll game too. Sometimes he used to play it with her and he was really good at it. Sometimes he got scary and yelled too loud. Sometimes he broke her dolls, but she didn’t mind. They deserved it.

Jane stood at the door and let them all in. They exclaimed brightly and kissed the air on either side of her face. They sashayed into her house, expensive perfumes wafting behind them. They wore exciting designer clothes, their sleek blonde hair twisted up or let loose over slim shapely shoulders. She fed them cakes, made with her own hands, and listened to their feathery talk. Their tinkling laughter was balm to her soul. Their perfectly made up faces, with bright eyes and lips, delighted her. Melinda, Angela, Caroline, Genevieve and Julia, her friends. They were sincerely interested in her and her life. But when they asked about Nick she just shook her head tragically and said nothing. Angela looked meaningfully into her cup and Jane jumped up to get more coffee.

“People say that she just broke down, started screaming.”
“I heard that she’s gone crazy, off her rocker.”
“She looks even worse than she usually does, no make-up, and she needs a new hair dresser.”
Jane set the coffee pot down on the table and wondered who they were talking about. Julia looked worriedly at her. “It’s okay, I haven’t poisoned your coffee!” she said quickly, and was rewarded with a chorus of giggles. Everything was okay.

They collected on the veranda, waiting to be whisked away by handsome husbands in gleaming cars. Jack smiled and winked at Genevieve, it was so nice that he got on with her friends. Then Alice appeared at the door. She looked shocking, still wearing her pyjamas, hair sticking up and scowling like an ogre. “Come on honey,” she said, hurrying daughter her away from her friends who were peering worriedly at her. Jane quickly closed the door. Alice gave her a piercing look.
“Are you ashamed of me?”
“No honey.” Jane said tiredly. “It’s just . . .”
She trailed off, there was nothing to say, no way to comfort this furious child. Clutched in Alice’s fist was a doll. Seeing it, Jane wanted to scream. Not another one. In one smooth movement she snatched it from her daughter’s hand and tossed it out the window. Then she opened the door, walked out, and closed it after her.

Alice stared at the closed door. Then she grabbed the handle and savagely wrenched it open. Standing on the doormat, she began to scream. All the women turned to look. Jane’s heart skipped a beat.
“Jack,” she said, trying to keep from screaming herself, “Do something.”
Jack stared at Alice. Then he turned away from her and addressed the women.
“I’m so sorry ladies, but Alice has a frightful fever, she’s been a bit off colour for the last few days.” He smiled charmingly, flashing his perfect white teeth. With that he turned, tossed Alice over his shoulder and walked into the house. Faint screams of, “I’m not sick,” and, “Let me go,” could be heard.
“Poor dear, she doesn’t know what’s good for her,” said Jane sorrowfully, and a little stiffly. The friends relaxed and began to share stories of their own children while they waited.

Jack dumped Alice on her bed. The veins on his head were popping out again. “Don’t you ever do that again, you hear me?” he roared, shaking her by the shoulders. Alice said nothing, just stared at him with her blue blue eyes.
“And STOP staring at me!” He strode out of the room. Alice crept out of her room and over to the top of the stairs. She watched him walk down the corridor and into the study, then slam the door. She dashed down the stairs and through the laundry then out the back door.

Jane gazed out the window, watching her daughter scrambling through the flowerbeds below. She was worried about herself. Worried that she really was crazy, just like her ‘friends’ had said. Looking back on it now it seemed so obvious that they were talking about her. The low voices, the worried looks. ‘Friends’. She sighed. Looking at the sky, she wondered wildly what to make for dinner. The sun was just lazing in the sky, as if it were not sure whether to dip down below the horizon or not. Jane refused to let go and sink into the emotions that were rising up inside her. The feelings of anger, rage even. And beneath them, the deep sadness, the lost feeling that had been with her all her life, as if she were a little child trying to be an adult. And making an awful mess of it too. She’d seen that look in Alice’s eyes sometimes. Looking down she noticed that her daughter had crumpled in the flowerbed and given way to deep choking sobs. Wild howls of misery, as if she were trying to purge the sadness from her body. As if in a dream, Jane stared down at her daughter, hardly recognising her.

Jack twitched. There was a noise, a crying noise coming from outside. He tried to shut it out but he couldn’t. He couldn’t concentrate. He opened the blind and looked down. There was his own daughter crouched in a flowerbed sobbing her heart out for all the world to see. Christ, the neighbours might see, and then what would they think of him. The reputation that he had spent so long perfecting would be ruined. He jumped up and ran down stairs.

Alice couldn’t see properly. The world had gone woozy and twisty, melting into itself, then streaming out in different directions. She felt the ground come up and hit her in the side. Giant flowers gazed curiously at her, as if she were an exhibit in a zoo. Sadness misery and fear washed over her like a wave, filling her to the brim and pouring out of her eyes and mouth. Someone was coming towards her, someone big. It was her father and he was all red again. She tried to stand, but wasn’t sure if she was even the right way up. She tried to talk but her voice was all high and squeaky.
“Daddy, daddy. Please don’t hurt me daddy.”
He stopped and stared at her and suddenly the world all went away and she was left in a place which was empty of everything except headache.

Jane watched as Alice stood, cried out, then fell lightly, almost floating, to the ground. Suddenly something within her woke. Some warm furry wild animal, a wolf. It opened its eyes and howled. She threw herself to the door and down the stairs into the garden. There she encountered a strange man staring at her daughter. Grabbing Alice and bundling her up in her arms, she turned and screamed at the man.
“What did you do? What did you do to her?”
He said nothing, just stared blankly at her. She stumbled to the garage and poured Alice into the passenger seat of her little car. She hadn’t driven for so long, she thought she had forgotten how, but it all came back as she slipped on her leather driving gloves. She speeded all the way to the hospital.

Jack stared at the empty place where his wife’s car usually stood. The garage seemed empty, he felt empty too. Why did he feel like this? Was he hungry? He went into the house, to the fridge. He reached inside and found a block of cheese. He bit into it. No, he was not hungry. He let the fridge door swing closed. It thumped, then there was silence. Not a sound. In this whole house. Usually there were sounds of his wife cleaning, his daughter playing with those freaky dolls of hers, his son playing rock music . . . until Jack had smashed Nick’s CD player. But now they were all gone. Well why should he care, he didn’t like them anyway.

Alice was trapped, not the white stuff this time but a small metal box, just big enough to contain her. She pressed her palms against its cold surface. She pushed as hard as she could but the metal did not move. The panic was rising up through her chest, making it constrict. Her heart pumped so hard that she could feel it in every part of her body. Still rising the panic came to her throat, choking her. There was so much of it that there wasn’t enough room for the air. She couldn’t breath. She tried to scream but there was no air to scream with. She tried to kick but couldn’t move her legs. The panic rose into her head and all ability to think left her.

“So what exactly is wrong with her?” Jane asked, her face tight and her voice strained.
“Well, er, nothing actually ma’am. We don’t really know why she fainted, there’s nothing physically wrong with her,” the doctor replied, looking not at her but over her shoulder, sheepishly.
“So . . . can we go home now.”
“Ah no. We’d like to keep her here for a while, monitor her, do a few tests, you know, just to make sure . . .” he trailed off then suddenly turned around and began walking briskly in the other direction. Jane gazed at her sleeping child and wondered. Was this her fault? Had she caused this somehow?

Jack still felt empty. He wanted someone to look after him, to fix him, to make this . . . feeling go away. He reached for the phone.

When she woke, Alice found herself in a crisp, white hospital bed in a crisp, white hospital room. She had never been in a hospital bed, but she knew that that was what it was. She was surprised to see her mother sleeping in a chair beside her bed. She looked around. Standing on her bedside table was a doll, it was the one her mother had thrown out the window. She must have picked it up before she fainted. She could remember clearly the whole episode in the garden bed, but she had no idea how she had gotten here. Her mother was waking up. Jane opened her eyes and saw that her daughter was awake. A tired and relieved smile fluttered across her face.
“Welcome back, honey. I’m so glad you’re okay. I love you so much, you know that don’t you.”
Alice smiled back and slipped the doll under the sheets. Dolls made her mother sad, and she suddenly didn’t want to make her mother sad again.

Nick followed the nurse down the twisting corridors. She knocked lightly on a door, then motioned him in. Alice was sitting up in bed talking to his mother who was sitting in a chair beside the bed. Jane looked happy but very tired. She smiled at him and stood up as he came in. She hugged him very lightly, as if unsure of what to do with him. “Nick, I need to ask a favour. Can you sit with Alice while I go home and get some clothes and stuff for her?”
Nick nodded, and looked down, his eyes suddenly filled with tears.

Jane strode into the house and climbed the stairs. Entering Alice’s room, she quickly packed a small suitcase of clothes. Seeing the other doll lying on the floor, she swallowed hard and slipped it into the suitcase as well. Walking past the study on her way out, she heard voices. She put the suitcase down and walked closer. The voices were Jack’s and a woman’s. Listening, she realised that the voice was her friend Genevieve’s. Jane’s heart lifted. Maybe Genevieve had come to find out if she was okay. Maybe someone really did care about Jane after all. Maybe she really did have a friend. She pushed the door open.

Jack was sitting in his big leather armchair and Genevieve was sitting in his lap. She was kissing him and his hand was inside her shirt. Jane swayed. Not caring whether they had seen her or not, she walked out of the room, and out of the house.

Nick looked at Alice, slightly warily. Alice looked back warily. Alice reached under the covers and brought up a small doll clenched in her fist. They both smiled and Nick sat down in the chair by the bed.
“Mummy threw him out the window,” Alice told him, with a hint of pride in her voice. Then a frown brushed across her forehead. “Mummy and Daddy are always angry since you’ve gone. It’s different. It’s not nice. Please come back.”
Nick looked at his sister.
“I . . . I can’t. But, I . . . I still . . . love you.”
Alice looked up in surprise, her brother had never said that to her before.

Jack stood up and grabbing Genevieve’s arm, he half ran out of the house. With his arm on her hip he steered her out side. He looked up and down the street, then pushed Genevieve to the garage. His big, black 4-wheel-drive raised swirls of dust as it screamed up the street. Jane straightened out of the bushes she had jumped behind and walked back into the house. Calmly she packed all of her, and Alice’s, belongings, or at least as many as would fit, into her suitcases. She didn’t break anything, except for the phone, which she grabbed off its rest and hurled against the wall as she walked past. She finished the job this time, and it shattered, also leaving a small dent in the wall.

Nick looked up as his mother walked in to the room, she was carrying about seven suitcases. She wasn’t crying but he could see from her face that she had found out. He himself had know for ages, but somehow she had never noticed the signs, and he had never told her, for better or worse.
“Where are you going to go?” he asked.
“I don’t know, I really don’t know.

PART 3

Jane knocked on the door to her parents’ house. A small bubble of nervousness formed inside her belly and rose slowly to her mouth. She swallowed hard.
“Oh, hello Jane.” The woman behind the door had peroxide blonde hair and thick foundation covering her wrinkles.
“Hi, mum. Can I come in?”
As her mother shuffled before her in a pair of pink fluffy slippers, Jane looked around at the house she had spent her childhood in.

She sat on the old moth-eaten sofa that was once very fashionable while her mother and father sat across from her, each in their own chair, as they had ever since she could remember.
“He cheated on me, with my friend,” she told them quietly.
Her mother gazed at her scornfully, and slowly opened her mouth.
“Well take a look at yourself, girl! What man wouldn’t find someone else? No make-up, grey hairs, old lady clothes. You’ll just have to get over it, every man has little flings. You should be thankful he’s keeping you there in that big house, living in luxury . . .”
It was worse than she expected. Jane stood calmly, though she felt anything other than calm inside.
“Well,” she said, turning to her father, who sat quietly in his corner, “I just thought you ought to know. We’re getting a divorce. I’m moving out.”
“But Jane, sweetie,” he whispered, eyes wide, “You have no job. And where will you live?”
She kissed his papery cheek.
“I’ll work it out, I’ll work it out.”

“Well,” said Jane, sitting down on the edge of Alice’s bed, “We’re not staying with Grandma and Pop, that’s for sure.”
She smiled at her daughter and Alice smiled back.
“I’m going to have to look for a job, so you might be left alone sometimes, okay?”
“Yeah, I’ll be fine. Sometimes Nick comes in and talks to me. And I’ve got my dolls.” Jane looked down at the two little creatures lying on the covers. She wondered what they did when she wasn’t around.

Jack gazed around his huge empty house, then down at the papers in front of him on the dining table. Divorce papers. What was his problem? He didn’t even like her much anyway. And the kids, they were both crazy. That was her fault, she’d made his kids crazy, she’d turned them against him. Evil bitch that she was. He signed with a black fountain pen, writing so hard that the metal nib sliced through the paper and spots of ink bloomed around his signature. “Good riddance,” he shouted, “Good riddance!”

Jane was rejected again. That made seven. Seven jobs that she could have had. Seven humiliating interviews, where she, a grown woman had had to grovel for a chance. Seven hard plastic chairs that she had sat in, bright red and silent, praying. Seven replies telling her that they were sorry, but she just wasn’t the right person for the job. She needed a job, she needed money, and she needed a place for her and Alice to stay. Sleeping in the hospital chair was all very well but Alice wouldn’t stay in the hospital forever. They would tell her that she could go home soon, but she couldn’t because there was no home to go to.

Alice’s dolls had nothing to say to each other. Somehow they didn’t feel like screaming any more, so they just sat and stared at each other. Alice gave up on them and decided to draw. All she could find to draw on was the jobs page of the newspaper, which her mother had left lying on her bedside table. The tension flowed out of her body into the pencil, making savage scrawls and thick dark lines. Then, as she relaxed, swirls and spirals spilled from her pencil and over the page. Alice was suddenly very very tired. The ever-present anger was gone, leaving her empty and slightly sad. Her eyelids drooped and fluttered, fighting sleep, then giving in to it.

Jane stepped quietly into the almost darkened room. Her daughter was asleep and on the sheets over her chest lay a piece of newspaper, the jobs guide. Alice had decorated it with drawings, almost obscuring the writing. Jane knew somewhere in her mind that she was meant to be annoyed, but she wasn’t. The drawings were so beautiful, like the drawings that she had done as a child, a voice reminded her. She picked the paper up off the bed, tucking the sheets around her daughter and kissing her forehead. She glanced over the paper one more time and noticed one job standing out from the swirls, sort of circled by tiny flowers. She squinted to read it in the dim light. Leaning over, she flicked off the bedside light. Hope flared in her as the darkness descended.

Alice dreamed that she was suspended high off the ground in a cage of glass. She was surrounded by blue sky, and looking down she could see a green blur of grass far below. The glass pressed against her body, crushing her chest and not stirring at her feeble kicks and wild thrashing. So she stopped thrashing, her body slumping slightly against the glass. Suddenly she felt the walls yield. Looking closely she could see the glass starting to melt and warp. Hope rushed through her, fizzing and roaring in her veins. She spread her wings, ready to take off.

In the darkness, one doll glanced at the other out of the corner of its eye. “I love you,” it whispered. The other doll did not turn or flinch. “I know.”