Page 33 of Save Us
Hmmm, I more than know what it’s like to have someone suddenly become obsessed with you, even if it is a terrified, well-trained Stepford Wife version of you. Perhaps it’s a lesson they teach boys from a young age in Mayfield - how to be unhealthily obsessed with your potential mate. They’d no doubt cover subjects such as forced marriage, domestic violence, rape, and general advice for how to be completely nuts.
“He declared his intentions to marry her the day after that party. Rosalie’s parents were more than thrilled over the prospect of marrying her off to someone of Carl’s status, for you couldn’t get much higher up. Not that poor Rosalie had any idea that her life was already being mapped out for her, that she was now essentially tied to this man before she was even of age, even by Mayfield standards. She lived in blissful ignorance with her companion, still enjoying her life as an innocent child.”
Pru pauses for a moment, remaining silent while we walk past some New Yorkers all hurrying to get back to the warmth of inside, probably to cozy up with their loved ones. Pru and I, on the other hand, indulge ourselves in some much-needed time away from the stifling atmosphere of where I live. I would call it home, but it feels about as much like my home as an underground bunker keeping me prisoner, where no one can hear my screaming.
“Of course, when she heard about what happened to her school peer, Lucy, she was horrified and confided in her mother about the rumors. My mother told me she had seen the fear in Rosalie’s eyes before confronting her mother, knowing she risked landing herself in trouble if she was ever caught bad-mouthing someone as prestigious as Carl.”
“And I bet her mother was less than sympathetic?” I ask sadly.
“She slapped her and made her stay in her room for the entire weekend. My mother kept her company of course, but all Rosalie did was cry. She felt awful for Lucy, but she also realized just how little voice girls like the both of them truly had.”
Leo walks a little behind us, but from his frequent sighing, I know he can hear all of this too. I suspect even Pru knows he is listening, but we continue to walk along as though this conversation is still just between the two of us.
“On the evening before she turned sixteen, Rosalie’s parents held a grand party for her birthday. Not that any of it was for her benefit. It was merely an opportunity to show off, to keep up appearances, but most of all, to formally match the two of them together. Rosalie knew this was all a farce, an event more for her parents than for her, so she slipped away as soon as she could. Unfortunately for her, Carl offered to see her back to her room. In fact, he insisted upon it.”
“Oh, God!” I close my eyes because I can already guess as to what happened next. Pru confirms my suspicions with a simple nod of her head.
“Once back at her room, Carl Steele informed her of the intended marriage, right before he forced himself on her, taking her virginity without another word,” she says with a long sigh. “He then thanked her for saving herself for him. When she told her mother, all she was interested in was Carl keeping up his end of the arrangement after he had already taken her virtue. She needn’t have worried; he was consumed by her.”
“My poor grandmother,” I cry as a flood of memories infiltrate my mind all at once - her playing shops with me, baking fairy cakes, and performing shows for her. She was always a happy, friendly grandmother; the type you read about in children’s books; a person who I loved going to visit. I’d often ask for sleepovers just to spend some extra time with her.
“Her marriage was even worse than that one night, but she thankfully managed to escape.” She smiles and pats my hand with both reassurance and sympathy, for we both know I haven’t been as fortunate. “It’s Carl’s biggest shame that he let her get away. When your great grandmother returned from England with only a death certificate, he went even more crazy.”
“How did he find out that she was still alive?”
“It was on your great grandmother’s deathbed that she admitted Rosalie and your father were still alive and living in England with another man.”
“Christ, what did he do?” I gasp, thinking whatever it was, it won’t have been pleasant.
Pru raises one of her carefully shaped eyebrows and looks at me with such an expression, I don’t need her to tell me how he reacted.
“If the rumors are to be believed, he smothered her there and then. Your great grandfather had already passed on, so no one knew about it. If they did, no one questioned him on it. From what I hear, he probably did her a favor; she was in the very late stages of cancer and in a lot of pain.”
Maybe it’s wicked of me to think this, but I can’t help believing that little bit more in karma. The trouble is, I have no idea when it will ever catch up with Carl or Oliver. Will it be soon enough to save me?
Beth, now
Elsie and I walk several times around the gardens, it being such a beautiful day. That and the fact that she reminds me of my missing grandparents. At first, we talk about her past, her hobbies, and pursuits, then of her family. She comes from a Mayfield background, but one that believes in the original ideals of the organization. They are the sort of family Carl and Oliver pretend to be for the public eye, to make them appear less like a dangerous cult and more like a caring, charitable, organization that want to help people and make things better for all.
“I worked for Mr Steele at his company for many years,” she says with a casual smile, “I was his personal secretary. He always seemed so friendly and professional; I had a lot of respect for him.”
“I notice you’re talking in the past tense?” I ask, probing further because my natural curiosity is taking over my sense of self-preservation. Perhaps I should have been a journalist. Perhaps I should have been a lot of things.
“Well, I can’t deny the fact that I’ve seen what your grandfather is capable of,” she replies with a heavy sigh. “However, his and Oliver’s treatment of you has been the biggest eye-opener.”
I smile uncomfortably, for I cannot argue with the fact that I’ve had to completely bend to their will. In fact, there’s little else to say to her statement.
“So, why are you with him?”
“Because I didn’t see it when I agreed to our arrangement,” she explains. However, her choice of words only intrigues me further. “He won’t let me out of it now. It would end very badly for both me and my family. Besides, we are not in a romantic relationship.” She laughs as though such an idea is ludicrous. “I am far too old and plain for Carl Steele!”
“I don’t understand.” I furrow my brow and look to her for further explanation, for this rabbit hole just gets deeper and deeper.
“I am for the public eye; I am the good Samaritan who makes Carl look like the charitable old man that he supposedly is. He offered me money and contacts to help with my charities, and in return, I became his wife for show.”
“Ok, that makes sense now,” I reply, as it all suddenly clicks together, “you seemed much too nice to be with someone like him.”
She wraps one of her tiny arms around my shoulders and squeezes me like Rosalie, my real grandmother, used to. It makes me feel warm inside. For a moment or two, I lose myself to a time when I had felt safe and free, and for that, I am thankful to Elsie.