What Once I Was

Chapter 5

Our bedroom was cloaked in darkness when Robert finally returned, his heavy stomping pulling me from my fitful sleep. His voice boomed and slurred throughout the house, Rover yapping as Robert crashed and banged below me. I pulled the duvet under my chin, cocooning myself from the drunken rage making its way up the stairs. 

"Get up bitch!" 

A yelp escaped my throat as he ripped the sheets from my body. Jeans and a dark t-shirt landed with a thud in my lap. He turned away leaving no room for questions, for confusion. I obeyed falling out of the bed in my haste to pull on the clothes tossed my way. 

He paced back and forth, muttering under his breath. I remained silent. I knew what was happening, I'm not stupid. I'd thought about it myself since the police had surprised us. We had to be sure the child found was not our daughter. And there was only one way we could do that. We had to dig her up ourselves. 

"What if she's not there?" I risked asking while squeezing my feet into my converses; I'd been in denial for a long time that my feet had swollen and would never return to their previous state. My converses were the only shoes that provided some comfort, and for the task at hand comfort was a must. 

"Then we're screwed. If I'm going down, you're going down with me. You best pray she's still there." 

I swallowed hard the thought of a cell door slamming in my face sending shivers through my body. I would never survive in prison. Do you know what they do to people who kill children? To mothers who help dispose of their body? I'd be maimed or dead before the month ended, I wasn't sure which was worse, I'm still debating it. 

"And if she is there? Then what?" I knew my questions were angering him, could see it in the throbbing vein at his temple, but I had to know. I needed to prepare myself for any situation. 

Robert stood at the car, hand unmoving on the door.  For the first time since the police had left he looked me in my eye. His face hardened becoming almost unrecognisable. Not anger I realised; fear. He was terrified our daughter had been discovered and what that meant for him. Terrified of being caught. For the first time in years we were one and the same. It felt good, as though I were truly connected to him again. 

"Then we move the body. Somewhere far from here."

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The field was pitch black when the car finally pulled to a stop. Robert got out and made sure no-one had followed us. The last thing we needed was to explain ourselves. To be safe I compiled a list of activities an older couple could be doing so late and in such an odd location. Dogging to bring passion back to our marriage. A romantic stroll. No that would never work. What was romantic about standing in a field, freezing cold with our visibility minimised? 

I'd not been to this field in many years. When we had first lost Naomi I would find myself aimlessly wandering through the grass, through the trees until I found our  tree. I'd sit for hours next to my daughter, telling her stories and singing to her. I'd feel connected to her, as though she sat beside me. I imagined on more than one occasion her little frame sat next to me, resting her head on my shoulder. 

"Sing Beauty and the Beast mummy." she would say, closing her eyes as I sang Tale as Old as Time to her just as I would whenever she would be scared or sick. She'd stroke the tears from my face and tell me it was okay. That she loved me. And then she'd be gone. Some dog, or passer-by scaring her off, leaving me alone in the dirt. The occasional person would ask if I was okay, offer to take me home. Others would stare as the passed, whispering amongst themselves. Wondering what was wrong with the dishevelled woman weeping into the dirt. 

I knew the way as though Naomi was holding my hand and guiding me back to her. 

"This way mummy. Almost there" I could hear her whisper into my ear. 

"Come on, let's get a move on before someone sees us." Robert's voice, little more than a whisper lost into the darkness, was riddled with venom. He still blamed me for this. I'd hoped his walk would bring sense to him. 

I trailed behind, following the dim glow of his flashlight as he scanned left and right. I wanted to tell him to head east, to look for the children's play park in the distant. That just beyond that was a clearing. That a path nearby would lead us to our daughter. He wasn't in a listening mood and so I stayed quiet, my breath fogging in front of me. 

"Where the hell is she?" 

Robert stopped in his tracks, his head turning manically this way and that. He threw the shovel into the ground so that it stood straight for a moment before landed with a soft thud in the damp grass. My own shovel felt heavy in my hand, the wood splintering into my palm. 

"I- I can show you." I whispered. I kicked the dirt with my shoe. 

"Well get a move on then. We don't have all night."

With a small nod I walked at a slow pace in the direction of the screeching of swings dancing in the wind. We got to the park in no time. It was eerie, unsettling, at this time of night. The roundabout turned ever so slightly, the swings moving back and forth. A ghost town sprung to my mind. Despite the dim light, I could see that the paint had started chipping on the apparatus and that one swing hung broken and unloved. It had been a few years since the playground had been overtaken by local teenagers. They'd spend hours drinking and smoking, spraying graffiti on the slide. Gone were the screams of children as their feet padded on the tarmac. Games of tag and football that gave parents a bit of well needed respite.

 I was grateful for the darkness that concealed my smile as I thought of Naomi giggling and begging to be pushed higher, her blonde pigtails traipsing behind as she swayed back and forth. She loved being outdoors even if she hated the dirt. She had spent every Saturday with me in the park. She'd sit in the Wendy house with her friend, a child in our neighbourhood, playing with their dolls. They'd create such wonderful worlds for just the two of them while I sat having adult conversation with the little girl's mother. That was the bit I looked forward to the most. Talking to someone who didn't recite information I'd fed them. It made me feel human.

Using the flashlight as a guide, I led Robert past the playground, slipping and sliding as the heavens begin to open. We needed to be quick. Digging wet mud would prove much more difficult and make significantly more mess. We didn't need anything that could lead police to Naomi or us. 

"It's here." I said, leaning against a tree. We braced ourselves, neither of us ready to uncover the truth. If Naomi had been found we would have no choice but to run. If she hadn't we had but hours to move her and bury her somewhere else. I'd considered hiding her for a few days, there was an unused cupboard in the cellar and I was sure there'd be no awful smell. Robert however would never have allowed it.

Our shovels smacked and scraped the dirt, landing with a plod beside us as we dug deeper and deeper. Though I tried to be careful how hard I hit the dirt with the shovel, dubious to damage Naomi's remains, Robert seemed to not have the same reservations as he grunted over and over with each plunge into the ground. 

"Just hold the light still for God sakes, I'll do the digging."

I obeyed instantly, thankful to throw the shovel down. My hands had already started to blister and bleed. 

"There! There's something there. Stop digging."

I watched as Robert fell to his knees, pushing dirt around until something protruded fully. Bones. Our Naomi. She was still there after all these years. Robert looked up, pointing at the duffel bag he'd carried from the car.

"Hurry up woman, we don't have all day."

I turned my back as he found bone after bone, throwing them carelessly into the bag before searching the area to make certain none were left behind. Happy that the job was done and with the dirt shovelled back into the hole and tapped until it lay flat, Robert whistled to himself. He swung the duffle bag at his side. I didn't move. Not straight away at least. I couldn't. I found myself staring at Naomi's resting place. Our place. 

It would never be the same again.