Chapter Fifteen - ‘Mary and Rory Separate’
Fate and fortune take no hostages from the walking wounded, and the first occasion that Rory and Mary had sex after the death of their son, John, resulted in her becoming pregnant again. When Mary discovered that she was once more pregnant, she also learned that this time she was expecting triplets once more.
While she was naturally cautiously pleased with the news, she nevertheless feared that something bad would befall them again. While everything told her that such a fear was irrational to hold with any conviction, Mary could not dispel the horrible notion from entering her mind.
Despite her and Rory having resumed some semblance of a life as man and wife in the bedroom, the closeness and specialness that once embraced their relationship, and which had once provided the height of sensual pleasure to them both was no longer present in their union. Theirs was now a union in name only and all physical contact had become routine. The closeness they once enjoyed as a loving couple had gradually drained from their relationship; leaving them strangers to sensual touch and warm embrace.
All love making had virtually ceased to take place, and on the rare occasions they now had sex, there was nothing at all lovingly intimate about their contact. Mary simply allowed John to mount her hard to rid himself of the mountain of repressed anger and frustration his body harboured and dumped on her.
In truth, the last thing Mary wanted was to have sex with Rory, or any man for that matter. She allowed Rory to have his way with her occasionally, to avoid a mighty row erupting.
While she was naturally cautiously pleased with the news, she nevertheless feared that something bad would befall them again. While everything told her that such a fear was irrational to hold with any conviction, Mary could not dispel the horrible notion from entering her mind.
Despite her and Rory having resumed some semblance of a life as man and wife in the bedroom, the closeness and specialness that once embraced their relationship, and which had once provided the height of sensual pleasure to them both was no longer present in their union. Theirs was now a union in name only and all physical contact had become routine. The closeness they once enjoyed as a loving couple had gradually drained from their relationship; leaving them strangers to sensual touch and warm embrace.
All love making had virtually ceased to take place, and on the rare occasions they now had sex, there was nothing at all lovingly intimate about their contact. Mary simply allowed John to mount her hard to rid himself of the mountain of repressed anger and frustration his body harboured and dumped on her.
In truth, the last thing Mary wanted was to have sex with Rory, or any man for that matter. She allowed Rory to have his way with her occasionally, to avoid a mighty row erupting.
~~~~~
Five months into her pregnancy, Mary and Rory had an almighty argument that came to fisticuffs and rough handling. It was around midnight and she said she was going down stairs to get a glass of water and a cup of tea. Rory was hard asleep and didn’t hear a word she said.
Upon entering the kitchen area, Mary almost stumbled over a bin liner filled with rubbish that Rory had promised to put into the yard bin. After tut tutting, she took it out to the backyard bin herself. As she lifted the lid to deposit the black liner with the bin being full, she rummaged towards the bottom of it, pressing the contents down and seeking to make a bit more room.
Suddenly, Mary felt it! Concealed within a brown paper bag was an empty vodka bottle. Initially she couldn’t believe her eyes. Now it all started to make sense; Rory’s general loss of interest in her except when he wanted sex, which these days seemed more like he was dumping his aggression on her instead of making love to her.
Mary went back inside the house and started looking around in all the likely places a secret alcoholic will hide their drink. Within half an hour, it became apparent that Rory had returned to the drink. Everything was making sense and she knew it wasn’t a figment of her wild imagination.
That night Mary found full and part-filled bottles of vodka in a tool box in the garage, behind an engineering book on the lounge library shelf that Mary would never normally remove to read, and inside an old brown suitcase that also contained old clothes that would never be worn again. A rummage inside his clothes pocket turned up a receipt from the Off Licence for some crisps and a small bottle of vodka.
Despite it being almost 2.00 am, Mary stomped upstairs angrily to have it out with Rory. He was fast asleep, but that didn’t stop her grabbing him by his pyjama lapels and seeking to rock him senseless as she flayed at him with her nails as they pierced his skin deeply, hitting him wildly with her half-clenched fists.
“You faking bastard! All this time, and after what I’ve been through, you went back on the drink! You faking bastard! Go on; get out of this faking house now! I never want to set eyes on you again, you faking bastard!”
Rory woke up stunned with the racket going on around him. Mary was screaming at him and young Mary was crying loudly also. When Rory saw Mary holding up a bottle of vodka that she was threatening to crown him with it, he jumped out of bed.
Mary screamed another obscenity at Rory and then flung the bottle of vodka at him. It hit him on the skull as it collided with his head.
Although a non-violent person in general, had she been within arm’s length, Rory would have undoubtedly struck her. His face was red, he held his head that was now bleeding from the gash the full bottle of vodka had created, and the veins in his neck gorged with anger and threatened to burst!
Sensing his anger, and the possibility that she had behaved too aggressively towards Rory, Mary ran for safety towards the top of the stairs. Rory raced after her cursing and threatening what he’d do to her when he caught her. Rory made a sudden lunge to pull her back and shake her hard, but instead of pulling her towards him, the force of his hold made her instinctively pull away from him. She lost her balance and Mary went crashing down the full flight of stairs in front of her like tumbleweed blowing in a fierce storm.
Over and over she rolled down fourteen steps and crashed into the wall at the bottom of the stairs. Mary lay there in a crumpled mass, unconscious and looking lifeless!
Rory panicked, fearing that she’d broken her neck or had died in the fall. Sensing the possible consequences for himself, also for Mary and the triplets she was carrying, he rushed to the bottom of the staircase to attend to her needs.
He found Mary unconscious, and despite slapping her face a couple of times, he couldn’t bring her round. He immediately phoned for an ambulance and after he’d replaced the receiver, he immediately started to think what he would tell the ambulance workers when they asked what happened.
When the ambulance arrived, Mary was placed on a stretcher after having a neck support placed around her and was taken to hospital. Rory followed on behind in the car.
One hour later, Mary and Rory knew that their relationship was at an end and would never be revived, after a scan showed that all three foetuses had not survived the fall and that she had miscarried.
Rory asked to see Mary, but she refused him entry and passed a message to him through the nurse never to try and see her again.
“But what about little Mary, our daughter, she can’t stop me seeing her!” Rory yelled through the doors of Mary’s side ward.
Mary never saw Rory again, although he did stop drinking once more, to be reconciled with the mother of his child, if she’d have him back. After it had become apparent that no way was Mary ever going to give Rory another chance, like the typical alcoholic he was, he used this rejection as an excuse to return to the bottle.
Mary refused all future contact with him thereafter. She refused to open her door to him or return his telephone calls and messages. As far as she was concerned, he’d killed her triplets by pushing her down the stairs during a heated row!
The triplets were placed in the same coffin and were buried in the same grave yard that held the other three children Mary had lost. Mary remained emotionally fragile and lost to the world for the next three or four months; one day after another passing her by without almost no awareness of what was happening around her at any given time.
Rory was not informed of the funeral service that Mary had persuaded a priest to hold for her; although a letter informed him afterwards that their remains had been buried in the same coffin; along with precise details of the burial site.
One month later, Mary had sold the house and had done an ‘Annie’ on Rory. She left the area with young Mary and no forwarding address.
Upon entering the kitchen area, Mary almost stumbled over a bin liner filled with rubbish that Rory had promised to put into the yard bin. After tut tutting, she took it out to the backyard bin herself. As she lifted the lid to deposit the black liner with the bin being full, she rummaged towards the bottom of it, pressing the contents down and seeking to make a bit more room.
Suddenly, Mary felt it! Concealed within a brown paper bag was an empty vodka bottle. Initially she couldn’t believe her eyes. Now it all started to make sense; Rory’s general loss of interest in her except when he wanted sex, which these days seemed more like he was dumping his aggression on her instead of making love to her.
Mary went back inside the house and started looking around in all the likely places a secret alcoholic will hide their drink. Within half an hour, it became apparent that Rory had returned to the drink. Everything was making sense and she knew it wasn’t a figment of her wild imagination.
That night Mary found full and part-filled bottles of vodka in a tool box in the garage, behind an engineering book on the lounge library shelf that Mary would never normally remove to read, and inside an old brown suitcase that also contained old clothes that would never be worn again. A rummage inside his clothes pocket turned up a receipt from the Off Licence for some crisps and a small bottle of vodka.
Despite it being almost 2.00 am, Mary stomped upstairs angrily to have it out with Rory. He was fast asleep, but that didn’t stop her grabbing him by his pyjama lapels and seeking to rock him senseless as she flayed at him with her nails as they pierced his skin deeply, hitting him wildly with her half-clenched fists.
“You faking bastard! All this time, and after what I’ve been through, you went back on the drink! You faking bastard! Go on; get out of this faking house now! I never want to set eyes on you again, you faking bastard!”
Rory woke up stunned with the racket going on around him. Mary was screaming at him and young Mary was crying loudly also. When Rory saw Mary holding up a bottle of vodka that she was threatening to crown him with it, he jumped out of bed.
Mary screamed another obscenity at Rory and then flung the bottle of vodka at him. It hit him on the skull as it collided with his head.
Although a non-violent person in general, had she been within arm’s length, Rory would have undoubtedly struck her. His face was red, he held his head that was now bleeding from the gash the full bottle of vodka had created, and the veins in his neck gorged with anger and threatened to burst!
Sensing his anger, and the possibility that she had behaved too aggressively towards Rory, Mary ran for safety towards the top of the stairs. Rory raced after her cursing and threatening what he’d do to her when he caught her. Rory made a sudden lunge to pull her back and shake her hard, but instead of pulling her towards him, the force of his hold made her instinctively pull away from him. She lost her balance and Mary went crashing down the full flight of stairs in front of her like tumbleweed blowing in a fierce storm.
Over and over she rolled down fourteen steps and crashed into the wall at the bottom of the stairs. Mary lay there in a crumpled mass, unconscious and looking lifeless!
Rory panicked, fearing that she’d broken her neck or had died in the fall. Sensing the possible consequences for himself, also for Mary and the triplets she was carrying, he rushed to the bottom of the staircase to attend to her needs.
He found Mary unconscious, and despite slapping her face a couple of times, he couldn’t bring her round. He immediately phoned for an ambulance and after he’d replaced the receiver, he immediately started to think what he would tell the ambulance workers when they asked what happened.
When the ambulance arrived, Mary was placed on a stretcher after having a neck support placed around her and was taken to hospital. Rory followed on behind in the car.
One hour later, Mary and Rory knew that their relationship was at an end and would never be revived, after a scan showed that all three foetuses had not survived the fall and that she had miscarried.
Rory asked to see Mary, but she refused him entry and passed a message to him through the nurse never to try and see her again.
“But what about little Mary, our daughter, she can’t stop me seeing her!” Rory yelled through the doors of Mary’s side ward.
Mary never saw Rory again, although he did stop drinking once more, to be reconciled with the mother of his child, if she’d have him back. After it had become apparent that no way was Mary ever going to give Rory another chance, like the typical alcoholic he was, he used this rejection as an excuse to return to the bottle.
Mary refused all future contact with him thereafter. She refused to open her door to him or return his telephone calls and messages. As far as she was concerned, he’d killed her triplets by pushing her down the stairs during a heated row!
The triplets were placed in the same coffin and were buried in the same grave yard that held the other three children Mary had lost. Mary remained emotionally fragile and lost to the world for the next three or four months; one day after another passing her by without almost no awareness of what was happening around her at any given time.
Rory was not informed of the funeral service that Mary had persuaded a priest to hold for her; although a letter informed him afterwards that their remains had been buried in the same coffin; along with precise details of the burial site.
One month later, Mary had sold the house and had done an ‘Annie’ on Rory. She left the area with young Mary and no forwarding address.
