L'amore: The Luminara Series (33 page)

I don’t move because I know Mummy will be mad. He gets angry and pulls my dress over my head. Then he leans back on the pillow and stares at me. He has green eyes like the grass.

He places his hand on a lump in his shorts then puts his hand inside.

He moves his hand fast, making funny noises, then he makes a loud, weird noise and falls onto his big bed. He lifts his hand out and shows me. He has slimy milk on it. He rubs it on his top.

“Good girl, now you can get pizza,” he says. I’m happy because I want to have it in my tummy before Mummy wakes up.

He kept his promise today.

He never keeps his promises.

I bite it but just swallow. “No, ya silly freak. You need to chew it,” he says.

I try but my teeth are banging together. It is hard to chew.

“That’s it, keep chewing. Next time ya get to chew this, and I’ll give ya candy.” He puts his hand on his lump in his shorts. I like pizza but it takes me a long time to chew it. I feel thirsty so Michael hands me a cup with black water in it. It’s hot and fizzy.

“It’s coke, drink it.”

“I only drink my milk!” I cry.

“Drink it!” he shouts.

I drink it and it’s yummy. “I want my mummy,” I cry because I've been bad.

He’s mad but he thuds his feet and puts my dress back on me.

When I go back into the shed, Mummy is gone.

“Shhh, Simon has taken her to the house. Go to sleep. She will be back soon.” Cameron cuddles me and I fall asleep. When I wake in the morning, Mummy is very sleepy. She talks funny and sounds strange.

After a while, she wakes up and pulls me into her, holding me tight. “I love you, I love you, are you all right?” Then she hugs Cameron and cries as she holds him. I hate when Mummy cries. She cries a lot.

Cameron goes outside to pee, and I watch him kick a stone.

“What’s that on your dress?” she asks. I swing my legs, and look at the ground. Mummy smells it. “Did you eat pizza?” she says. I stay quiet and move a stone around on the ground. “Alexis, did Michael give you pizza?”

“Mummy, I so sorry but he made me,” I cry.

“I thought you were a big, brave girl. I’m disgusted that he forced you. If he bullies you again, please try and run away. Just run or shout for help.” Mum is sobbing, she is upset.

When Cameron comes back, he has cut his lip. It’s bloody and he has marks all over his face.

“Stay away from Michael, Cameron, I don’t want him hurting you.”

“Mummy, I sorry, I sorry, and I sorry …”

Dream a Little Dream

I thrash my legs around.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” I mutter. I shoot upright, whimpering in panic. I’m suffocating.

Lucca grasps me. “Lexi, breathe, baby, calm down. I have you.” He throws the covers off me to give me air and strokes my arm. My back presses into the mattress as my chest heaves up and down with the panic.

He blows on my face then turns my head to face him. “Bad dream?” he asks.

Roberta stirs. “Aunty Lexi, what’s wrong?” She whimpers, rubbing her eyes. I’ve startled her and now my stomach twists with the worst possible feeling of guilt. I’m distressed because I’ve alarmed this innocent little girl. She was blissfully sleeping until my restless nightmare panicked her. The thrashing of my legs and mumbling has woken her up and scared her.

She sits upright, curls her fingers around my arm, and grasps onto me tightly. Instantly, I pull her onto my lap and cuddle her, rocking her back and forth in my arms and quietly hushing.

“Nothing is wrong, baby girl, everything is fine. Go back to sleep, angel.” I kiss her on the head, smooth her hair, then climb over Lucca and walk into the bathroom shaking. I find my anti-anxiety pills and place one on my tongue then inhale long, slow, steady breaths before the chest pain becomes too sharp.

He follows me a few minutes later. “I have settled Roberta. Jesus, what is wrong?” He moves my hair away from the beaded line of perspiration around my forehead and cheeks then runs his hand through his hair. “I hate seeing you like this. Let me help you, Lexi,” he pleads.

I slump on the floor leaning against the bath edge. “I had a terrible memory. I think being around the kids has provoked my memories. I think I’m four in the dream, maybe five, and my mum was disappointed in me. I think my fight with her this morning has brought some things back and having Roberta playing with my hair, triggered a memory.” I chew the inside of my cheek then worry my fingers in front of my lips.

“Tell me about it,” he says softly, sitting down beside me. I know some things I share with him tear him up, and it’s hard for him to listen to, but he’s trying so hard and he desperately wants to help me.

So I do. I explain the dream, while I pick the skin on my hands. He places his hand over mine to hold me still, patiently listening.

“Lexi, you are having so many nightmares and I worry about them, about you. I think it might be a good idea to go back and see Casey Huddersfield. I can come with you … come here.” I lean into him, wrap my arms around his waist and neck, and he pulls me onto his lap.

“I’m so sorry. Certain things trigger them,” I sob.

“Sorry for what? It is hard for you to control, no need to apologise.” He rocks me gently in his arms, the same way I did for Roberta.

“Waking you up and disturbing Roberta. I told you, I’m not cut out for having kids. I can’t even keep myself sane. That poor girl will be traumatised in the morning. Lucca, I know you’re only trying to help, but you’ve been the best therapy for me. I love the kids, but spending time with them is triggering so many memories. What if I had kids and I’m still like that around them? I’d be a basket case and have nightmares which would continually upset them.” I try to reason with him.

He kisses my head then my lips. “I love you so much.”

A sleepy looking Roberta walks into the bathroom, yawning and rubbing her eyes. “I need a pee-pee,” she says, looking a little scared. Then we hear Antonia crying from her travel cot. The full house will be up next.

“I will get the baby, you stay with Roberta,” Lucca says.

After helping her to wash her hands, I splash my face then carry her back to bed. Lucca is on the bed with Antonia leaning on his chest, the skin on her cheeks red and inflamed, and she’s gnawing at her knuckles. I tuck Roberta in and kiss her head, having to hold back tears that I’ve had to settle her, and try to remain strong as if everything is alright because I don’t want to upset her.

“Sweet dreams, angel,” I whisper. Then I walk around towards Lucca and take Antonia from his arms.

“Uncle Lucca, I’m not tired. Can you tell me a story?” Roberta says, peeking up at him. I smile at him adoringly as he cuddles her into his side.

“Once upon a time, there was a prince named Lucca who was very lonely, so he was searching for the love of his life.” I smile at his sweet story, albeit a little corny. “Destiny and fate plays a big part in this story as Prince Lucca meets his Princess Lexi.”

Roberta yawns and falls asleep during Lucca’s retelling of the garden of paradise wedding proposal.

After soothing Antonia’s gums with her teething gel, I sway her in my arms and sing “Dream A Little Dream” to her— the same song my mum hushed to me. Closing my eyes, I recall many nights lying on the dirty mattress or our shed after Michael bullied and tormented me, and Mum would calm and soothe me with her sweet singing.

After the terrifying ordeal when I found her tied to Simon’s bed for the first time, and I went into shock, it was Mum singing “Dream A Little Dream” that gradually helped me. At first I liked the softness in her voice. I responded by tapping my fingers against her arms. Then I’d sway along with the melody. After a few more nights, I really listened to the words and associated this song with Mum loving, protecting, and cherishing me. I would then hum along … until I eventually began singing some words along with her. Several weeks passed and by the time I sang the full song with her, I was fully communicating again in speech and showing various emotions.

I can feel myself becoming very emotional. Although this song was always a successful way for Mum to soothe me, it also brings back memories that disturb me. The night we got away and escaped, Mum had to soothe me for several weeks afterwards when I was in shock again by singing this very song, day in day out.

Fire.

Screaming.

Yelling.

Blood.

Tears.

Moss.

Dirt.

Dig.

Escape.

Gun.

Shoot.

Bang.

Panic.

Run.

Free.

Breathe.

I feel a sharp pain in my chest, and I force myself to fight it, to be strong, because I don’t want the baby picking up on my tension. Closing my eyes, I breathe slowly with control and pick another song.

Antonia is fighting against sleep, so I swaddle her in my arms and sing Eva Cassidy’s version of “Somewhere over the Rainbow,” another one of Mums favourites, but I associate it with happy memories because Grandpa plays this tune on his harmonica
.
Lucca slides out of bed and wraps his arms around my waist, swaying with me side to side, and despite the haunting memories I incited tonight, I don’t want this moment to end.

When her little eyelids close over, I kiss her then place her down in the cot, wrapping her blanket around her. Lucca turns me around to face him.

“That was really precious. You are gifted, Lexi, and a real natural with her. Thank you,” he whispers. Then he sways me and sings quietly, “Dream A Little Dream” into my ear. He’s trying to settle me peacefully as I have just done with the baby, but given my latest vision, the night that we escaped, I begin to cry. Hearing the words sung back to me has broken me. As quietly as I can, I shake and sob against him. Lucca guides me into the living area of our suite so we don’t disturb the girls anymore.

He doesn’t bother putting the light on. He sits on the sofa and pulls me onto his lap. I’m so emotional and want to clutch onto him as tightly as I can. I turn around, kneeling at either side of him, and envelope myself around him like a monkey hugging a tree. I need this closeness and it’s not even close enough. My shoulders jerk, body shudders, and chest aches while I cry hysterically against him.

“Jesus, baby, shush now, I have you. It is okay.” Lucca rocks me back and forth while I practically strangle him—I’m gripping that tight—and rubbing my nose beneath his ear.

“It’s the song, I thought it would help calm Antonia. Mum used to sing it to me; it soothes me, but tonight it elicited some bad memories after the dream I had. I’m such a mess.” I cry and cry.

“Do you want to tell me about it?” he asks attentively, giving me considerate caresses, tender kisses, and wipes my tears away, showing me nothing but love. Eventually once I’m more composed, I tell him snippets about the mattress on the ground in the shed and Mum singing to me at night time. He asks about why that particular song set me off tonight, so I tell him vague scraps about the night we escaped, deliberately leaving some vital information out.

“Christ,” he gasps, sounding crushed listening to me. With one hand around my waist, his other hand rubs my back over my pyjama top then slips into my hair where he entangles some hair between his fingers and holds my head. “I want to
soothe you now
, make you relax, and take away those awful memories. I would love you to have good memories and think about a happy time before you fall asleep, it might help, si?”

I snivel and sigh, keeping my eyes closed, “Maybe, but I can’t think of much right now.” I sob. It’s too exhausting having to pull up years of mental files and search H for happy. Perhaps if it weren’t so late and I wasn’t as distressed, I would be able to think clearly. It appears Lucca has other ideas to rekindle my happy thoughts.

He sings Andrea Bocelli’s “Because We Believe” in Italian and English softly to me, reminding me of the happiest time of my life … when he proposed to me in our
garden of Eden
in The Four Seasons Hotel in Firenze.

Our song.

I smile against his chest and place a soft kiss on his neck. Standing up, we adjust, and I straddle his waist keeping a tight grip, ensuring I’m wrapped around him. Singing quietly, he paces the living room of the suite with me engulfed tightly around his body, soothing me …
reminding me …
until I’m relaxed and focused on my happy memories.

Our past.

Our future.

Our memories.