Authors: Chris Curran
Tom was still in his crumpled school uniform and carrying a bulging rucksack. The sight of him sent a thrill through me. He’d come to see me on his own; had really wanted to spend time with me. But after the thrill came a tremor of anxiety. Did Alice know about this?
Kieran gave a little wave and clanged out of the door. I wondered for a second what he was thinking. But that didn’t matter. What mattered was Tom leaning on the counter obviously feeling awkward.
‘This is a lovely surprise. I didn’t expect to see you today. How did you get here?’ I said.
His flush and the way he looked down at his feet made it clear I’d got it wrong again. ‘I came on the train. Lots of kids from school do it every day.’
‘Come on then, you haven’t seen inside the flat yet.’ This time it was OK. He grinned and shrugged his rucksack tighter on his shoulders as I grabbed my bag from under the counter and called a goodbye to Stella.
Walking to the flat, I couldn’t speak. Tom was silent too, stomping ahead, his rucksack bouncing on his back. It felt unreal and yet so right to be walking home with my son and I was so proud of him I almost wanted to shout out to the people we passed that I was his mum.
But when we were in the house and I was unlocking my door, I knew I had to say something. ‘So Alice is all right with this is she?’
His pause told me all I needed. ‘She’s got late surgery and I’m supposed to be revising at Mark’s, so she won’t worry. I told Mark where I am, and if she rings him he’ll tell her I’m OK and I’m coming back on the train. I checked and they run till about midnight.’
As we came into the living room he headed for the windows. ‘Wow, Mum, this is cool. You’ve got a sea view.’
‘It’s good isn’t it? Have a look round the rest.’
I needed a moment to think because I realised I had no idea what kind of freedoms were
appropriate for a boy of his age, but I certainly wasn’t going to take any chances with his safety. In the kitchen I made myself some coffee, poured a glass of milk for Tom and opened a packet of biscuits.
When he came in he took a biscuit and gulped some of the milk, saying, ‘Thanks, Mum.’ Then grabbed his rucksack from the living room, put it on the table, and began to unzip it.
I pulled out a chair and pointed to the other one. ‘Look, sit down for a minute, Tom.’ When he’d done so and was looking at me, still holding his bag, I said, ‘You shouldn’t have come without talking to Alice you know. What if I’d been away?’
‘You told me you were at work today.’ He smiled. ‘And Alice might have said I couldn’t come.’
I tried to make my voice firm. ‘If she did, it would have been for a good reason. You know that. Now I’d better ring her at work to let her know you’re OK.’
‘But I came to show you these, before you go to Emily and Matt’s.’ He pulled the cardboard folder I’d seen yesterday from his rucksack and sorted through the papers, his face animated again. ‘This is what Mark and I have done.’ He unfolded a sheet of A3 and pressed it flat on the coffee table.
It was a kind of printed flow chart about the accident. I saw the names of some of the people at the wedding with arrows pointing to a series of rectangles: one headed
possible suspects
.
‘I’ve said why any of them might have been involved on the back.’ He turned the sheet over. This time the names were listed in pen, each one followed by comments on Tom’s theories. His handwriting was small and neat. I pointed to the names
Emily and Matt
and the words beside it:
Matt worked with Granddad (or jealousy)
. ‘What does this mean?’
‘
Well, Matt could have had something to do with the scandal and Granddad found out about it.’
‘And the
jealousy
?’
‘That was Mark’s idea. He says jealousy’s a big motive.’ He shifted awkwardly. ‘So maybe Emily thought Matt liked you, or she liked Dad.’
‘Oh, Tom, you don’t think that, do you? You know Emily. And what’s this about Lorna?’
He covered her name, but I’d already spotted:
for money
. He turned the paper over. ‘I know, I know … but you have to put in everything.’ He pointed to another box next to Emily and Matt’s names:
waiters and others.
‘Like I said, you should ask her about the people who catered for the wedding.’
I tried to lighten the atmosphere. ‘You sure that won’t make her realise we’re on to her?’
But he wasn’t having any of it. ‘
Mum
– this is serious.’
Looking into his eager face, I felt that familiar lump in my throat again. ‘I’m sorry, this is all really clever, but I need to look at it carefully. And I’ve had some thoughts too. First, though, I need to ring Alice.’
He followed me into the living room. ‘Mum, I’ve just thought, why don’t I stay the night? I can go straight to school from here in the morning.’
I longed to agree but it would have been too much like rewarding him for deceiving Alice. ‘I want you to start staying here of course, but I’ll need to get a put-you-up or something first. And we must talk to Alice about it beforehand.’
I couldn’t get through to the surgery, so I rang Alice’s mobile, not surprised to get no reply there either, but at least I was able to leave a message.
‘Hi, it’s Clare. Look, Tom has turned up here. I had no idea he was coming, but don’t worry, I’ll bring him back on the train as soon as I’ve given him something to eat. I’m sorry about this and I have explained to him that he should have asked you first…’
I threw down the phone as Tom hurtled past me, slamming the door behind him. But the front door of the house defeated him and he was scrabbling to open it when I got to him.
‘Tom, what’s the matter?’
He was pressed against the door, his shoulders heaving, and I could just make out the words. ‘I’m going. You don’t want me here, so I’m going.’ His voice, gruff and wobbling with tears, echoed in the large space and I was ashamed to feel embarrassed in case Nic or Kieran could hear.
‘It’s not that. Come inside and we can talk.’
‘No. If you don’t want me, I’m going.’
‘I never said I didn’t want you. It’s lovely to see you, but you should have told us first.’
‘You said, and Alice said, I could see you when I wanted.’
‘But we need to know where you are – to make sure you’re safe.’
His teeth were gritted. ‘You don’t fucking want me. Nor does she, and you’re both liars.’
I rubbed his back, as if soothing a baby, and felt him jolt and choke on a sob. I was fighting to hold back my own tears. ‘Please, Tom, come back inside.’
After a long minute he turned, shrugging me off, and went into the flat, throwing himself on the sofa, his face turned away. I sat on the coffee table facing him, but when I put my hands on his knees he moved sharply sideways, elbows on one arm of the sofa, his fists clenched at his mouth as if to hold back the words he was frightened he might say.
After a couple of minutes I moved to sit beside him and he didn’t pull away when I touched his shoulder. ‘The truth is, Alice and I both love you to bits, you must know that. It’s just that things aren’t easy for any of us right now.’
‘Alice said you don’t want me back.’
‘Surely not. Didn’t she just say we needed to give it time?’
‘Well … yes. Sort of.’
Careful, careful.
‘And that’s the truth.’
‘But nobody asked me.’
I had no answer to that one. ‘I know and it’s not fair. None of this is fair on you, but please try to be patient.’ Though he didn’t speak I took the fact that he crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back into the cushions as a good sign and dared to press on. ‘You must be starving and I know I am. So let’s get a takeaway shall we?’
I found a couple of menus someone had left in the hallway. ‘Go on, you choose, and we’ll share it,’ I said.
He picked a meat feast pizza, which came with a large bottle of Coke, and some ice cream and I phoned in the order, while he looked through his papers again.
‘Now let’s see what else you and Mark have discovered.’
He pulled some other pages from the folder and I could see he’d printed out various reports on the accident and my trial. It was horrible seeing it all again: those nightmarish pictures and the terrible words, and to think about him reading it. ‘Oh, Tom, I wish you hadn’t.’
‘What?’
‘These things, I hate to think of you reading them.’
‘It’s all right. Well, all right now, I mean. I saw it all ages ago so I’m used to it.’
A vision of little Tommy reading about his brother and father’s deaths and the dreadful things that were said about me made my insides twist and my throat ache. I put my arms around him. ‘You are so brave. I don’t deserve you.’ It took all my effort to force down the sobs that threatened to burst out. I couldn’t lose it like that in front of him.
After a while he pulled away, his face very pink. ‘All right?’
I dragged a tissue from my sleeve, rubbed my eyes, and tried to smile. Then gestured to the papers. ‘I’m OK. So what else is there?’
‘Just that you need to talk to the two witnesses when you go to Cumbria.’ He pointed to a couple of highlighted areas. “
David Hillier, 64, and motor cyclist Jacob Downes, 18”
. It says Mr Hillier was a well-respected local head teacher who lived in the village near the accident spot.’
He was right. If I wanted to find out more, even to recover my memory, the two people who were there just after the crash were the ones most likely to help. And of course I remembered them both. Mr Hillier, dignified and articulate in his smart suit, who gave me a sad and kindly smile as he finished his evidence. And the boy, Jacob Downes, in a leather jacket and jeans with lank hair he kept pushing back and letting fall forward again. His answers were so mumbled the judge had to ask him to repeat himself several times.
If Mr Hillier was still living in the same village it should be easy enough to trace him, at least. Bramstone was a tiny place, more hamlet than a village.
The food arrived quickly, but as I brought in the boxes I heard Tom talking. Alice had rung while I was in the hall. ‘There’s no need. I might as well sleep here tonight.’ He looked up as I came in. ‘She wants to speak to you.’
‘All right. The food’s on the table in the kitchen, so just get stuck in.’
Alice was clearly annoyed. ‘What’s going on? I only rang to say I’ll be there in an hour or so to pick him up and he tells me he wants to stay the night. Was that your idea?’
I lowered my voice. ‘No, but you must be tired after work so why not leave him. I’ll sleep on the sofa. I’ll see he does his homework and I can put his clothes through the wash for tomorrow. In the morning I’ll walk him to the station and make sure he gets the right train.’
She sighed. ‘I’m sorry, but I can’t agree to him staying with you yet. We’ll have to wait and see how things go before that happens.’
This time I couldn’t keep the anger from my voice, although I managed to speak quietly: Tom mustn’t hear us arguing. ‘So you think he’s not safe with me?’
‘That’s not the point. Tom is your son, I’m well aware of that, but he’s my responsibility and has been for the past five years. I don’t think you realise how vulnerable he is.’
‘What does that mean?’ It came out too loud, but my quick glance at Tom told me I’d got away with it, he was eating a big slice of pizza his eyes on something he was reading.
Be careful.
‘Look, I don’t want to get into this now. I’ll be over in an hour or so.’ There was a short silence before the dialling tone cut in, and I stood gripping the phone as if it were a living thing I could punish for its unfairness.
She was right, of course. When I finally gave up trying to sleep, just after 2 a.m., I’d been through it over and over: my anger at her for her tight-lipped refusal to come into the flat as she told him to hurry up and go to the car; my own uselessness.
What kind of a mother was I to let him off so lightly: not to make it clearer he’d done wrong? For God’s sake, I hadn’t even thought to tell him he should never have talked to Kieran, a stranger, and wandered off with him, just because he claimed to be my neighbour. At least Alice didn’t know about that and – pathetic creature that I was – I had no intention of telling her.
Huddled in jogging bottoms and socks I switched on the laptop, not surprised to find an email from her:
Clare,
I’m sorry if I seemed overbearing tonight, but I was really upset. Please don’t think I want to keep Tom away from you, but we’ve got to go about this very carefully. (It’s what we agreed before you came out, remember). It’s not been easy all these years and of course he is sometimes rebellious with me, so we have to make sure he doesn’t think he can use you to help defy me.
I’ve grounded him for the rest of the week and told him he’d better keep to that if he wants to see Mark on Saturday and you on Sunday. You can call or email him of course, but please, please back me up on this.
Alice.
We
had
agreed to take it slowly and I knew she had Tom’s interests at heart and replied, of course, I would back her up. I told her I was hoping to visit to Emily and Matt anyway. I didn’t mention Tom’s outburst, ignoring the small voice that said I should.
As I closed down the laptop I noticed Tom’s folder sitting on the coffee table. I put it in the drawer with the stuff from the suitcase. Then I crawled back to bed, certain I wouldn’t sleep.
I was woken what seemed minutes later by the phone. As I snatched it up I saw the caller identification:
unavailable
, but I clicked to answer anyway. I was fed up with this. ‘Hello, hello, who is that? Only breathing. ‘Hello, who’s there?’ Still those rasping breaths. ‘If you’re too pathetic to speak then you can fuck off, you bastard.’ I shouted.
The line clicked dead.
I lay awake, knowing I probably shouldn’t have spoken, but glad I had. I learned in prison that you have to stand up to bullies. And I was sure this wasn’t just some call centre, mistaking the time. It felt personal. Could it be someone I’d annoyed in prison? There had been a few of those, including one or two of the screws.