The Nature of Cruelty (35 page)

Sasha backs up against the wall, her shoulders drooping, as Robert and his dad square off. “Oh, yeah, and what’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means you’ve been falling behind at work for weeks. Don’t think I haven’t noticed. And I know for a fact it’s because you’ve been spending all your time with that little piece over there.”

I feel like I want to disappear when Alan’s disapproving stare settles on me for a short moment. Suddenly, I get to experience firsthand a tiny glimpse of what Sasha and Robert have been dealing with their entire lives.

“What the fuck has that got to do with anything?”

“It means that if you don’t sit down, shut up, and start doing the job I pay you for, you’ll be out on your ear.”

Sasha reaches forward and grabs Robert’s arm. “Come on, Rob. Let’s just go. We don’t have to listen to this. We don’t need him.”

The brother and sister stare at each other for a long time, as though coming to the sudden epiphany that it’s true, they don’t need their father’s approval to live their lives. My heart beats fast just watching them.

Then, out of the blue, Robert laughs. “You’re right, Sash. You’re so bloody right.”

With that, he goes to help me from my seat and then gestures for Sasha to lead the way out of the house.

“Get back here this instant,” Alan demands, following us to the front lobby.

“What? Only a minute ago you were telling Sasha to leave. We’ll come back when you stop being such a bigot,” Robert says cuttingly.

“Do you forget whose roof you’re all living under?”

“We’ll move out in the morning if that’s what you want,” says Sasha, a touch of anger to her words.

“That’s not what I meant,” Alan replies, losing some of his steam. “Just come back into the dining room so we can discuss this.”

“Dad, I’m exhausted. Do you know how much willpower it took to come here today and tell you what I just did? And then you go and piss all over me. I have to go.”

“Sasha,” Alan pleads.

Her face softens a touch. “No, Dad. I can’t do this. You reacted the way you did, and I just can’t be around you right now.”

With that, she strides out the door. Just before he can do the same, Alan grabs a hold of Robert’s arm, running his other hand through his hair.

“Listen, son. Tell her I’m sorry. I just…she should have told me in private, not at dinner in front of Melanie and everything.”

Swiftly, Robert withdraws his arm from his father’s hold. “It shouldn’t fucking matter even if she announced it in front of the bloody House of Commons, Dad. The way you spoke to her was shitty on so many levels I can’t even begin to break it down for you. You think everyone else is the problem, that we’re not living up to your standards, when in reality the problem is inside you, and until you learn to change your ridiculous opinions, the problems will continue to be there.”

Alan blinks at his son, his eyes wide. There’s a long stretch of silence, and then finally he says, deflated, “Just tell her I’m sorry.”

Robert shakes his head, as though disappointed. “Yeah, I’ll tell her.” His words come out harsh, and then he’s leading me from the house.

It’s a quiet journey driving home in the car. I sit in the back with Sasha, just silently holding her hand and trying to let her know that everything will be all right.

“What on earth…” Robert breathes as we pull into the driveway at the house. I follow his gaze to where the front door is sitting wide open.

Oh, shit. We’ve been burgled.

This day seriously couldn’t get any worse.

“Did one of you forget to close the door when we left earlier?” Robert asks, with wishful thinking.

Sasha speaks up. “No, I distinctly remember locking it.”

We all make eye contact for a moment before getting out of the car.

“Both of you stay here and call the police. I’m going to check if they’re still inside.”

I pull him back. “No, you can’t go in there. What if they’re armed?”

At this we hear the noise of furniture crashing to the floor from inside, and before I can stop him Robert dashes into the house. Not properly thinking it through, Sasha and I run after him. The noise is coming from upstairs, and we take the steps two at a time.

Looking through each room in turn, we finally discover the source of the trashing, which is coming directly from Robert’s room. The noise of glass hitting the wall and smashing to pieces sounds in my ears.

When Robert carefully pushes the door open, standing in front of me and Sasha to shield us, we find a crazed Kara inside. Her dark eyes are manic as she stands among Robert’s trashed possessions, smugly holding his camera in her hand.

“Well, well, well,” she says, her voice high-pitched with satisfaction. “You two are kind of kinky, aren’t you?” Her gaze flickers from me to Robert and back again as she scrolls through his pictures. It hits me like a sledgehammer that she’s looking through the pictures he took of me, the ones I always thought only he would ever see.

“Kara! What the fuck do you think you’re doing, you nutter?” Sasha hisses, staring in awe at the carnage this one small woman created.

“Your brother stole something that belonged to me. I was only trying to take it back,” Kara answers, scowling.

“Jesus Christ, Rob. What have you done now?” Sasha asks, turning to her brother.

He ignores her and levels his stare on Kara, demanding, “Hand that over right this instant.”

All of a sudden, I feel my body begin to tremble and my hands shake. The idea of Kara having those pictures and showing them to other people fills me with a sense of urgent anxiety. I clutch my chest as my heart beats hard and fast.

Sweat drips out of me, and I heave like I’ve just run a marathon. My throat clenches with thirst, and my vision blurs. Then the pressure of a tonne of bricks falls down on me, and I’m vaguely aware of the fact that I’m going to faint. Losing all strength, I let out a cry of nausea, and Robert turns swiftly to face me in concern. Kara uses his momentary distraction to make a run for it, clutching the camera in her grip and dashing out of the room.

Robert catches me in his arms just before I hit the floor.

Interlude IV
– Robert

May 2005.

I
’ve decided to quit school.

I haven’t told anyone this, not even Mum, but Mr. Brennan cornered me in an empty hallway after my swimming practice last week and pushed me hard into the concrete. He then proceeded to tell me, in no uncertain terms, that if I didn’t do as he said he’d make life very difficult for me. Hah! As if he wasn’t already doing that.

I never got the chance to find out what he was going to tell me to do – because I kicked the living crap out of him.

He’s been taking sick days ever since, but it seems he hasn’t breathed a word to anyone the reason for his absence. I guess he’s too scared I’ll go to the principal and let him know how he’d gotten a bit…handsy. I hope he’s really suffering, the bastard.

My and Sasha’s eighteenth birthday is coming up this weekend. This whole thing with Mr. Brennan has kind of taken the joy out of it, though. Dad’s actually coming over this time, which only happens every second or third birthday. He’s rented out the local GAA clubhouse and is throwing a big party for us and all our friends.

Mum’s distressed as ever after I announced that I was leaving school. I expected Dad to be just as pissed about it, but surprisingly he wasn’t. He told Mum that I was an adult now, and that I should be allowed to make my own decisions. He’s irritated because Mum’s dating some new bloke, and he wants to get one over on her. I’m not complaining, obviously, since it’s working out to my advantage.

It’s been an awful week. I came home after the incident with Mr. Brennan, my knuckles red, raw, and bleeding because I’d punched him so hard, and cried for hours. Cried like a little kid. The only person I’d wanted to comfort me during those dark hours was Lana, yet she was tucked up safe in her bed, completely unaware of how much I needed her.

Dad said that since I’m turning eighteen I can move over to London and work for him at the agency. The idea feels like a breath of fresh air, like freedom, because I need to get away from the suffocation of this village. Away from school and nut jobs like Mr. Brennan, and away from my house where I have to see Lana constantly and try not to touch her. Try not to hurt her, but I always do anyway.

Last year I made the discovery that my sister likes girls, and now I’m coming to think that she might actually be crushing on her best friend. I can’t believe I never noticed it before, how she always defends Lana against me, so very protective of her. Not to mention how she checks out her arse when Lana’s not looking.

What a pair we are, twin brother and sister in love with the same girl.

Well, I’m not sure if Sasha’s affections run as deep as love, but mine certainly do. Anyway, it makes me feel even worse, because now it’s like I’m harbouring a secret attraction for my sister’s girl.

I’ve been going around with bandages on my hands, pretending I cut myself by falling over some rocks at the beach. I’m shocked everyone believes the story, since I’m cut in the exact same places on each hand. Tonight is the party. I unwrap the bandages and find that the cuts have healed enough to leave them uncovered.

Dad’s been staying at a hotel and said he’ll meet us at the clubhouse, though I think he’s reluctant to come since he knows Mum will be there with her new boyfriend. Not to mention Lana’s mother will be attending, and he’s never gotten along with her. To be honest, I think he might be a little scared of her. The woman’s built like a brick shithouse; it’s a wonder where Lana got her small, feminine frame from.

I meet up with Dean and Liam before going to the party, arriving fashionably late. Sasha’s already there, surrounded by her friends from school. Lana’s sitting beside her wearing a cute red dress, her pale, perfect skin all on show. She got her braces taken out a couple of months back, and now every time I see her smile or laugh at one of Sasha’s jokes she looks even prettier than she did before.

My jaw instinctively tightens when I notice Ronan’s here, too. Sasha must have invited him. God, I hate that little shit, always sucking up to Lana, never leaving her side. When the guys from my class see me enter, they all start whooping and cheering. Then Dad’s in my face, leading me over to the bar, going on about buying me my first legal drink.

After that things become blurry. People keep setting fresh drinks down in front of me, and I keep knocking them back. The “Happy Birthday” song is sung, with boys and girls lining up to give me and Sasha our eighteen kisses. I laugh bitterly to myself, thinking how Sasha would probably much prefer to be getting kisses from my line. Furthermore, the only girl I want a kiss from is Lana, but I saw her scurry away to the bathroom before she could get roped into it.

Later on, I’m vaguely aware of Mum and Dad having a big fight and Mum storming out of the clubhouse, her boyfriend in tow, who, by the way, I don’t think is going to last the week. Lana’s mother gives Dad a look of pure disgust before marching out after Mum.

Soon most of the parents are gone, and I’m well on my way to passing out in one of the booths. A couple of girls approach me, but I seriously have no interest. All I can do is stare at Lana messing around and dancing all nerdy with Ronan. I fall asleep with my head on the table for at least a half an hour, and when I wake up I feel like I’ve sobered a little.

Glancing about the room, I see that most people are either dancing or getting it on in dark corners. Lana’s sitting by a table on her own, sipping on a glass of juice. I have an odd thought of her dress being a red flag and me being a bull, uncontrollable, wanting to charge her.

In my less than sober state, I feel like it’ll be a good idea to go over there. As I stumble to my feet, some drunk brunette gets in my way, and I have to literally pry her off me when she wraps her arms around my neck. When I get to her table, Lana peers up at me, looking tired and like she’d rather be anywhere but here.

“Hey, come with me,” I say, grabbing her thin wrist and pulling her from her seat.

“Robert! Let go of me,” she protests, clawing at my hand, her eyes big and fearful.

I drag her outside and around the side of the building, where it’s mostly dark except for the dim shine of an outdoor light.
This is it
, I think in my head.
I’m going to tell her everything. How I think about her all the time, how I feel like I can’t breathe when I don’t see her, how all of the bullying was just my twisted form of affection.

Pushing her against the brick wall, I place both of my hands on either side of her shoulders, crowding her in.

“You smell like booze,” she says, scrunching up her nose, making me want to kiss it.

“You smell like…” I pause, lowering my face to her neck and sucking in air. “Lemons and flowers.”

She presses her hand to my chest, pushing me back, but I keep leaning in closer. I’ll never be able to get close enough. When my forehead touches hers, she freezes; her blue eyes are like a mood ring, lighting up like Christmas.

“Why are you out here?” she asks, her voice a tiny squeak. “All of your friends are inside.”

“I don’t give a fuck about them.”

At this her expression hardens. “That’s exactly your problem, Robert. You don’t give a fuck about anyone.”

Her words make me hesitate. There’s so much more venom in them than I thought she was capable of wielding. My drunken brain pushes back any deeper thoughts as I laugh and waggle my finger in her face. “You just said ‘fuck.’ Naughty, naughty.”

“Let me leave,” she orders me, her posture straightening.

As I bring my hands up to cup both her cheeks, my eyes flicker back and forth between hers, and she gasps. I’m a millimetre away from kissing her, yet I don’t. As I take up every inch of the space she might have previously had, a realisation hits me that I can’t do this anymore.

I can’t keep on ruining her for anyone else, because it’s clear that’s what I’m doing. The way her face gets all dreamy when she thinks I might kiss her says it all. She wants me, too, is holding a hopeless candle out for the both of us. I’m not going to saddle her with me, because I’ll only destroy her like I destroy everything else.