Folie en famille

How many days? How many days such as this must she endure? Eve gazed drowsily out at the tangled garden, lost in thought, hazel eyes unfocused, her very posture vague and indecisive. Rain trickled hypnotically down the kitchen window, but the short storm had done nothing to alleviate the oppressive summer heat; as the downpour had eased off, the air actually seemed to become heavier and more difficult to breathe. 

A loud bang startled her as the back door flung wide and a small boy threw himself across the kitchen flagstones like a whirlwind. "I'm home, I’m back, I'm home" he chanted, dancing round Eve's legs and beaming up into her astonished face.

"He...hello," she stammered, off-balance, at a loss. "And who might you be?"

The little fellow laughed, a pink-tongued, joyful, open laugh. "Ha, ha, ha, I know, it has been so long, you have forgotten me, ha ha. But I swear, mama, I have been good. I missed you though." He muttered this last sentence, head bowed, studying his shoes.

Eve stared down at the child, bewildered. To all appearances, this was a happy, healthy, normal boy, around eight or nine, she guessed. Darkly good-looking, he was dressed in rather old-fashioned trousers and a cotton sweater, covered by an anorak that swamped his slight frame. As he lifted his head, bright blue eyes shone up at her from under thick dark lashes, his pink cheeks betraying excitement as he tugged playfully at her skirt. 

A beautiful child, Eve thought melancholically. Making some mother very proud and happy to have such an affectionate, good-natured boy. 

But Eve had never seen the boy in her life.

***

"What did you say your name was?" Eve watched as the boy sat, legs dangling, at the kitchen table, devouring a plate of chicken sandwiches she’d made earlier, but failed to eat. He took a swig of milk from the glass beside him, drew his sleeve across his mouth and eyed her sideways, quizzically.

 "Is this a new game? Is this pretend? Because you know my name,

you gave it to me."

Eve could only gaze at him in return, wondering what was wrong with this otherwise perfectly normal seeming child. "Humour me" she said flatly. "What's your name?"

The boy scowled at her, his features darkening. "Alright, alright, my name is Eli, Eli Mitchell as well you know. And we are Eli and Eve Mitchell and we live at Laurel Cottage, Boscott Mill, Dewbury, England, Great Britain, Europe, the World, the Earth, the Solar System, the Galaxy, the UNIVERSE!"

The sing-song cadence of the childish mantra grew in volume as the boy stood up, until he fairly shouted the final words, with a petulant thrust of the lip, red in the face, eyes glistening on the verge of tears as he faced Eve angrily.

Eve was shocked. This boy knew who she was.  How could that be? Where had he come from? Carefully, she placed her hands on his shoulders, looking down at him steadily. Speaking with more confidence than she felt, she asked quietly "Eli, how do you know my name? Who put you up to this?"

But Eli was not to be cajoled. "You are my mother! I've come home from school. You're my mother!" Eli's plaintive cry tore at Eve's heart, but she steeled herself.

"Eli, I am not your mother. I have no son. I have a daughter, but she is not here right now."

"No, no you don't, you don't have a daughter. She is gone now, forever. Now you have me, Eli, and you're my mama" he spoke viciously, his face congested in fury. 

"Who is your father, then, Eli?" Eve’s heart twisted at this casual rejection of her daughter’s existence.  But she was also thrown and perplexed by the child's utter conviction.

"Oh that would be Luke", he spat the name out contemptuously. "But you drove him away."

Eve's bafflement was now tinged with the first stirring of fear. How does he know about Luke? Who IS this boy, running in as if he owned the place, claiming to be my son? What does he know about us, and why?

"You drove him away," he repeated, then added with a smirk, "and actually, I helped." This simple declaration chilled Eve, the summer heat seemed to vaporise, leaving ice in its wake. What is he saying? What does he mean?

 "Can I go to my bedroom? I'm feeling sleepy now." Eve saw an opening and went for it.

"Where is your bedroom, Eli? What colour are the walls? Describe it to me" Eve was quietly triumphant that she would defeat him. Shame at her surge of elation immediately followed; he was only a child.

"Mama, what IS this, why are you asking all these questions? Are you not happy to see me? But you're always happy to see me." Eli's rosebud bottom lip trembled as he once more appeared on the edge of tears; tugging forlornly at his anorak cuffs and scuffing a shoe on the flagstones. These despondent gestures spoke to Eve, she relented slightly. "Come on Eli, just close your eyes and conjure up your bedroom. Tell me what you see." She sat down on a stool near him, and tilted his chin up so he could meet her gaze. "Eli?"

Eve was amazed at how naturally she said his name, how softly she spoke, how gentle she was with him.

Eli sighed, looking coldly at her, then pointed through the kitchen door to the passageway. "You go through there, turn right, up the stairs. There are fourteen steps. At the top you turn right again, go down the corridor to my room which is on the left. The walls are yellow, the floor is wooden. There are two woollen mats which Luke said are Chinese; one is mainly blue, the other is mainly red. There is a bookshelf with an old teddy bear sitting on it. There is a chest of drawers with a load of old matchboxes where I used to keep insects till you made me stop because they always died." Eli paused, then continued slyly "I watched them die. It was like our science lessons. But you did not know that, mama. You felt sorry for the poor little bugs." Eli's tone was scornful and his expression pitiless as he delivered this information to a horrified Eve, who was less alarmed at the minor sadism than at his accurate reading of the house's layout. With eerie precision, Eli had described the route to a bedroom in the house, and was obviously familiar with its contents. 

"That's Lucy's room, Eli, how do you know where it is? Do you know Lucy?"

"It's not Lucy's room. My room.  My room. It's my room.“ The boy was now becoming quite hysterical.  He started to cry, great heaving sobs and gulping breaths as he continued to insist that it was his room. Eve was troubled by the wildness in the child, the extremity of his moods struck her as excessive.  But he was in danger of making himself sick with all this displaced emotion. Eve decided to pacify him for the time being.

"It's all right Eli, you can go upstairs, you're tired. Let's get you to bed, yes?" Eli's tears stopped immediately and his dazzling smile reappeared. A cunning look crept into his eyes as he asked "Will you come too? Will you sing me a song? Please say you will." His tone was persuasive as his eyes pleaded with Eve from under long, dark, wet lashes.

Eve sighed and stood up, taking his slightly grubby hand. "Come on then young man, let’s go."

***

 Eve’s mood became reflective as she watched the slumbering boy child, face flushed but peaceful in sleep.  She turned the problem over in her mind. How did Eli come to be here? Was he mentally disturbed? Certainly, the passion of his deluded belief that she was his mother indicated this was so. But his knowledge of the house and the family was inexplicable.  He had insisted that she sing him a lullaby, one that she had often sung to Lucy in the past. She couldn’t shake the feeling that he was connected to Lucy somehow; the details could not be explained otherwise. But he was no school friend that she had ever seen, and besides, Lucy scorned boys, preferring the company of her own sex, with their less boisterous pursuits.  As Eli had closed his eyes, his face had taken on a smug expression which repulsed her slightly. But falling into sleep, his features relaxed so that now he simply looked vulnerable and pathetic.  Although fascinated, Eve was unnerved by Eli and a little frightened of him. For all his child-like qualities, there was something that did not quite fit.

Eve considered her own situation. She still loved Luke. But Lucy’s absence cut her to the core. Her gorgeous, blonde, loving, gentle little girl, so carefree in spirit – how could she go on without her? And just what was this beautiful young boy doing in Lucy’s bed?  

***

“Eli, we need to talk, to clear some things up,” Eve had decided to confront Eli after his nap, to try to get to the truth of this strange little visitor.

“Yes, mama, I agree,” Eli replied in a piping, exultant voice, “I think you have been under a great strain and now we must help you get better.” Since waking, Eli was in a charged state; bounding down the stairs to find her, laughing and shouting out loud, re-energised.

Eve ignored his remark and demanded “What did you mean when you said that I drove Luke away and that you helped?” They were back in the kitchen, facing each other over cups of tea that Eve had made. Eli took two sugars.   Just like Luke, Eve thought, then scorned herself. Millions of people take two sugars in their tea, it means nothing. Certainly not that we are this boy’s parents and I seem to have forgotten! But he is so insistent, if he did belong to us, it would be so wonderful, Eve found her mind wandering as she gazed tenderly at Eli, smiling sweetly at her over the rim of his cup.

“We should go out in the garden, mama, it is lovely and warm.” Eli was diverting Eve’s attention. No! she thought anxiously, I must get him to talk, tell me everything. 

“Eli, answer my question,” Eve spoke more sharply than she intended and saw the boy’s face fall, the smile disappear. It was replaced with a nasty, spiteful look that made Eve shudder once again; the prickle of fear returning.  

“You should be nicer to me, mama, you really should. If you only knew what was good for you, but you are determined to be difficult. You want to know? I’ll tell you what you already know but cannot face. Luke left. You WANTED him to go. We don’t need him. It might have been nice if the girl had stayed, someone to be my sister, but he took her too. He hates you and he’s gone and your precious Lucy is gone and they are never coming back.  Never. Which is what we wanted. We wanted to be left alone, didn’t we? Just you and me, Eli and Eve. Together, always, forever. Yes, that’s right, mama, you have a good cry, get it out of your system. Then we can start to make it all good again,” Eli slipped off his chair, and came round the table to comfort Eve, who was moaning in pain at this onslaught, silent tears pouring down her face. She recoiled from his attempted embrace, shaking from head to foot.

“Don’t you touch me, you monster! I don’t know who you are or what you want with my family but you can stop it right here, right now,” she screamed at Eli, who simply stared at her.  “You are not my son, and my husband and daughter are coming back home any day now. How DARE you suggest that you and I deliberately drove them away. You are a hateful, horrid, despicable child and I want you to leave this house NOW!” 

“Mama, you really must get over this and accept the situation. We were four, now we are two. It will be all right, I promise. It’s why I came home from school early, so I could look after you and make sure that you were safe and happy.”  Eve felt as if she were losing her mind, the child was so convincing and persuasive. Was it possible? Was it within the bounds of possibility? Maybe she had had a breakdown and this Eli really was hers? Surely not. But Lucy, what about Lucy, she would never willingly have let her go? But he knew the bedroom, how could that be? And he knows what happened with Luke.  Eve’s thoughts became fuzzy and strange; while she was preoccupied, Eli had stolen on to her lap and now held her hand, stroking it softly as he spoke.

“I know how we can sort this out,” Eli said confidently. Eve stared at him dumbly, feeling her will ebb away. “There’s someone we can ask, someone independent. You’ll believe him, mama, he’ll tell you the truth.”

Eve asked dully “Who? Who on earth is here that can help us?”

***

The old man was bent over, attempting to weed the beds in front of the ramshackle garden shed, but the rain had turned the soil sticky and claggy. He looked up at Eve's call from the window, and shuffled painfully across, dragging his left leg in a slight limp. Stopping at the back door, he slipped off his dirty old shoes. Straightening up, he stepped carefully just inside the kitchen in his stockinged feet, a slight odour of wet earth and decay wafting from him.

"Do you recognise this child, Bayldon?"

"Why, certainly I do, ma'am" replied Bayldon, though he spoke uncertainly. "He's young master Eli a'course," squinting at the boy. "Grown a bit, haven't you?" The boy grinned happily at the old gardener.  "Mind you I suppose they do at that age," returning his attention to Eve.

"And where does he live, Bayldon?" Eve asked faintly.

"Is this a joke, ma'am?" Bayldon gazed sternly at Eve.

"Please, just answer the question." There was an edge of desperation to Eve's voice now.

"Why, he lives here with you, ma'am, has done ever since…." Bayldon hesitated. "When he's not at school that is. Home for the summer, are you, master Eli? That's the ticket; yer mum needs the company I dare say. Good to see you, lad. Will that be all, ma'am?" he asked, backing towards the door and retrieving his battered, brown gardening shoes. "Only I best get on before the real storm comes, it's on its way, that's for sure."

As the kitchen door closed behind Bayldon, Eli smirked triumphantly at Eve, “So you see, mama, you must admit it now, I am your son.”

*****

“She says that Eli is gone.”

“You are sure?”

“As sure as I can be, certainly she’s not having the nightmares any more. And I’ve not heard any one-sided conversations or seen that listening look she would get. She was rather distraught about losing him. Apparently, he helped her with her science homework.”

“Good, this is excellent progress; it seems the treatment is working. She’ll get over the loss of her ‘playmate’ soon enough, make real friends at school.”

“She misses her mother desperately though.”

“Well, that’s natural enough, but they had to be separated and Lucy was most at risk. Bring your wife over in a couple of months, when we are sure that Lucy is quite well, then we can assess Eve’s state of mind.  It may be that the delusion will begin to lose its grip over her anyway now that they cannot share it; who can say?”

“I’m sure you are right, doctor, but I can’t help feeling guilty about leaving her all alone. There’s only the gardener there with her.   He knew Eve’s family very well, been with them for generations, in charge of the whole estate in his early days, I understand. He’s the only one I could trust to keep an eye on her, the way she is. He’s agreed to play along and keep her calm, and she has known him since she was a child herself. As long as she continues to take the sedatives, I hope the episodes will be less intense.  But still.”

“It was the only thing you could do, Luke, aside from having her sectioned. I know you did not want that for her, especially given her family history. Just be patient a little while longer and you can all be together again, whole and well, I’m sure.”

*****

Spectacular lightning crackled overhead, followed closely by ominous rumbles, then a massive crack of thunder and a gusting wind.  Rain lashed down, saturating the garden, wilting the flowers and bending the black boughs of the ancient sycamore tree.

 “So, Bayldon, how old are you REALLY? Come on, you can tell me, honestly.”

“Oh now, master Eli, don’t you be askin’ about things that are of no consequence.  Let’s just say, I met your first mama when she was about your age, the year Queen Victoria was crowned. But you’re back home again now, be content. Let’s get into the potting shed afore we get soaked. Wave to your new mama, there, she’s at the kitchen window, smiling at you.”

Eli giggled manically, waving enthusiastically to Eve as they both glided out of sight. The muddy ground showed no footprints. Eve returned her attention to the raindrops, pouring like hot, fat tears down the windowpane.

***