by Cross, Amy
“I know, but...” Beth paused for a moment. It was so tempting to unleash the whole sorry tale, to tell Lucy what a disgusting man her father was, to stop protecting her and to start teaching her, at the age of just eight, something she'd inevitably find out for herself one day. At the same time, she knew she had to be the better person, and she didn't want to break the girl's heart. Not yet. After all, she knew from personal experience how that sort of thing could twist a girl as she grew up. “We'll go to McDonald's after, okay?” she continued, finding another smile from somewhere. “You can have whatever you want.”
“I don't like McDonald's.”
“Since when?”
“Since forever. Anyway, Burger King's closer.”
“It is?” She checked her watch. “Huh. You know, for an eight-year-old, you sure -”
Hearing her phone ringing, she turned and grabbed her jacket from the next seat. Fumbling through the pockets, she was already trying to work out what she'd say if it was Bob on the other line, calling from inside room 5 with some pathetic excuse about why he'd missed all her calls earlier. “I'm at work,” he'd probably say, which was his go-to excuse for everything, since he obviously assumed she'd never check. By the time she found her phone, she was just about ready to tell him to go to hell, but finally she saw – with a hint of relief, but then some disappointment – that it was her brother Jack who was trying to get through.
“Hey,” she said as she answered, “this is a bad time, can I call you back when -”
“Ben's coming home,” Jack said, interrupting her.
She opened her mouth to reply, before frowning. The news was sudden and unexpected, and it seemed to come jagging into her thoughts with no care as to how it might fit with everything else that was going on in her life. She rubbed her eyes. “Um... What?”
“Ben's coming next week. I just found out. Mum told me.”
“Ben? Why the hell is Ben coming?”
“I guess it's the ninth anniversary of the last time he bothered to come home for Christmas, so he felt bad.”
She paused, running through the idea in her head. It still seemed impossible and unreal.
“Ben's coming?” She paused, utterly shocked by the idea. “Are you sure? You mean our Ben? Our brother Ben?” Another pause. “Are you sure sure?”
“I'm sure.”
“But...”
“I know,” Jack replied on the other end of the line. “That was my reaction too.”
Silence fell for a moment, as they each waited for the other to say something.
“Fuck,” Beth muttered finally, before turning to Lucy. “You didn't hear Mummy say that bad word, okay?”
Lucy nodded.
“So,” Jack continued, on the other end of the line, “I guess we have to talk about... things.”
“We do?” She glanced back toward the motel and saw that the door to room 5 was still shut and that the light was still on inside. “I mean, yeah, we do.”
“Where are you now?”
“Um... At home.” She put a finger to her lips and turned to Lucy, who reciprocated and smiled. “I'm at home. Where else would I be so late?”
“I'm coming over.”
“No!” she said quickly, turning back to look at the motel. “No, Lucy's gone to bed and I'm exhausted. Bob's working all night, so... We'll talk about it tomorrow, okay?”
“I think we should talk about it now.”
“When's he coming?”
“Monday.”
“That's almost a week away.”
“We should start thinking about it now.”
“Jesus, it's not that much of an emergency.” As soon as the words left her lips, she knew they were wrong. Ben. Ben was coming. As if she didn't have enough on her plate already. “What I mean is... What I mean is, he's our brother, not some kind of monster. We can handle this.”
She waited for him to reply, but a kind of silence seemed to have settled on the conversation now, slowly lowering its wings over them both even though they were on opposite sides of town.
“Did you speak to him?” she asked eventually, rubbing the back of her neck.
“Mum did.”
“Did she say anything else? How did Ben sound? Where's he been since the last time he was in town?”
“I don't know. I think she didn't want to press him too hard, in case she scared him off. She's pretty desperate for him to come.”
“Will he be alone?”
“Beats me.”
“And it's just for Christmas?”
“That's what he told her.”
“So he'll leave again, right?” she continued. “I mean, that's the important thing. He's coming for Christmas, he'll hang around for that, but then he'll be gone again.”
“I guess.”
“He'll go back to... Wherever the hell he's been for the past nine years.”
“Hopefully. If we're lucky.”
“So there's no problem,” she pointed out, still watching the motel intently, still waiting in case the door to room 5 suddenly opened. “Mum'll be happy, and the rest of us can put up with him for a few days.” She paused. “I hope he doesn't stay for New Year as well.”
“Fingers crossed,” Jack muttered.
“And...” She paused. “Does Jane know?”
“I'm with Jane now.”
“And is she going to... I mean, do you think Alex and the rest of the police should be told Ben's coming to town?”
“Well, Jane knows.”
“That's good.”
“Exactly.”
Silence again.
“And if -” Before she could finish, she saw the door to the motel room open. Two figures appeared silhouetted against the light inside, before they pulled the door shut and stepped out into the parking lot. Leaning forward, Beth felt her heart beating at double-speed, but she could already tell from the shapes of the figures that they were strangers. She'd been so certain that she'd finally tracked Bob down to one of his all-night, away-from-home, lying-about-being-at-work lairs, and now she didn't know whether to be glad she was wrong or disappointed.
After a moment, she realized she was disappointed.
“Fuck,” she whispered.
“What was that?”
“We'll talk tomorrow,” she replied, “and Jack... Don't get too worked up over this. It's just Ben. Maybe everything'll be okay this time.”
“You don't really believe that.”
She paused, watching as the two figures made their way to a nearby car.
“No,” she said finally, “you're right, I don't, but I can't deal with this tonight, I've got other things going on. We'll talk tomorrow, yeah? Not now.”
“Beth -”
Cutting the call, she kept the phone in her hand for a moment and watched as the couple got into their car. The man opened the door for the woman and held it while she got in, before closing it carefully and heading around to the driver's side. Set against the backdrop of late-night pharmacies, all-night bars and every-night police sirens in this part of town, the chivalry of that one gesture seemed somehow magnified. Beth tried to remember the last time Bob had held the door for her, even in the driveway of their seven-figure house in the good part of town, but she came up blank. They were past the door-holding phase of their marriage and into the door-shouting-and-slamming phase.
“Can we go home now?” Lucy asked, sounding exhausted.
“Sure we can, sweetheart,” Beth replied, before a stray thought slipped into her mind. “But we might make one more small detour along the way.”
***
“I need to swing by my father's place,” Jack said suddenly, after driving for several minutes in silence since the call with his sister had ended. “I'll drop you guys off at home first.”
“This late?” Jane glanced at the clock on the dashboard. “Honey, it's gone ten.”
“I know, but it's important.”
She paused for a moment. “Are you going over to tell him about Ben?”
“Do you feel the need to warn every member of your family that your brother's coming home?”
“Kind of,” he muttered.
Looking over her shoulder, Jane saw that Stuart and Oliver were fast asleep on the back seat. She turned to Jack again, and for a moment she watched as he kept his eyes on the road. The problem with Jack was that when everything was fine, he tended to be very quiet, and when everything was up in the air, he also tended to be very quiet. Being quiet was his default mode, and it had taken her a long time to learn how to tell one type of silence from another. At that particular moment, however, she could tell that this was the type of silence that indicated trouble beneath the surface. He was already getting himself tie up in knots, but he was being very quiet about it.
“Have you called ahead to see if your father's up for having visitors?” she asked finally.
“I'll call in a bit.”
“You should. He might have gone to bed already.”
“He might be drunk already, you mean.”
“Jack -”
“It's fine,” he continued, as he slowed the car and turned onto their street. “I'll drop you and the kids off and then I'll go see him. I'll be quick, but he needs to know.” He eased into the driveway. “He has to know,” he added. “I'm not letting him get out of this one. If the rest of us are worried, he has to be worried too. I'll just go to his place and tell him, and I'll be back before the kids are in bed.”
***
Two minutes later, as the kids trudged to the front door, Jane watched Jack backing the car out of the driveway.
“Oh God,” she muttered under her breath. “Why now?”
***
“Dad?”
Jack knocked again, but there was still no answer. Trying the handle, he found that the door was unlocked so he pulled it open and leaned into the hallway.
“Dad?”
From the spare bedroom, there was a familiar sound.
Porn.
Sighing, Jack stepped inside and pulled the door shut. Whatever his father was watching, it sounded like some girl was having the time of her life, and a flickering blue glow was leaking out from under a door at the far end of the corridor.
“Dad?” he shouted.
He waited a moment, and then the sound stopped.
“Jack?”
“Hey, Dad,” he continued, keeping his voice raised a little. “Didn't mean to disturb you, I just need a quick word! Sorry it's so late.”
Another pause.
“Hang on!” his father shouted, already sounding distinctly annoyed. “Can't you come back tomorrow?”
“It's important.” He waited. “It's really important, Dad.”
“Well what is it?”
“I'm not talking to you through the door.”
“It's late!”
“I'll be in the front room!”
“You what?”
“The front room!” Sighing, he headed through. “Deaf old bastard,” he muttered as he reached the sofa and saw that old newspapers had been left all over the cushions. Clearing a space, he sat down and picked up an edition of the local paper, which turned out to be from almost six months ago, and he smiled as he remembered the office meeting where they'd come up with the headline. After a moment, he tossed the paper aside and glanced around the room. There were dirty plates piled up on a table by the armchair, and old, half-crushed beer cans on the floor. Glancing at the window, he saw a crack running through the glass. It was tempting to think that the old man was slipping into the early stages of dementia, but Jack knew his father had always been a messy guy. It had been one of the things that had driven Audrey crazy and caused the divorce.
A few minutes later, still adjusting his trousers, Harry Freeman came shuffling through from the spare room.
“I was bidding on something online!” the old man shouted.
“Sure you were,” Jack replied, rolling his eyes. “Is your hearing aid working okay?”
“It's fine!”
“So you're having no trouble at all?”
“What?”
“Dad, sit down. There's something I need to tell you.”
“It's late,” Harry replied, easing himself into the armchair and wincing in the process as he felt more pain from his hips. Beneath him, the chair creaked and groaned as if it was about to collapse. “You're lucky I wasn't in bed.”
“It's about Ben.”
At this, Harry paused for a moment. “Say what?” he asked finally.
“It's about Ben,” Jack said firmly.
“Huh?”
“Ben!” he shouted. “Come on, I know you heard me!”
They sat in silence for a moment.
“Ben, huh?” Another pause. “What did he do? How much trouble is he in?”
“He's not in trouble. Not as far as I know, anyway.”
“Prison?”
“No.”
“Is he hurt, then? Is he dead?”
“No, Dad, he's not hurt or dead.”
“Then what's up?”
“He's...” He paused for a moment, suddenly feeling as if his mouth was a little dry. “He's coming home.”
Harry stared at him for a moment, before frowning. “What did you say?”
“I said he's coming home.”
“Ben?”
He nodded.
“Coming home?”
“Come on, Dad, don't make me say everything twice. Turn your hearing aid up.”
“My hearing aid's fine,” the old man snapped. He paused, as if he was still struggling to process the news. Leaning back in his chair, he gripped the armrests, which was his default position whenever he had some real hard thinking to get done. “Ben, eh? Coming here?”
“It's not that surprising,” Jack replied. “It's been, what, nine years? Maybe he wants to be with his family for Christmas.”
“Huh.” Turning, Harry stared over at the window for a moment, as if he was lost in thought. The silence seemed to spread, until finally he sniffed. “Did he say what he wanted? He always wants something. I can't give him money, not this time.”
“Mum got an email from him,” Jack explained, “saying he'll be in town next week. He's arriving on Monday.”
“So it's your mother he's coming to see, really.”
“He's coming to see all of us.”
“You don't know that.”
“It's a pretty safe bet. Dad, come on, just accept it.”
“Who's he staying with?” Harry asked. “He can't stay here, I use the spare room for the computer.”
“Well, he'll stay with -” He paused for a moment, before bowing to the inevitable. “He'll stay with me and Jane, I guess. Or Beth and Bob.”
“Huh. And what does Jane think about that possibility?”
“I'm sure she'll be delighted when I tell her.”
“What?”
“Maybe he just misses us,” Jack continued, raising his voice a little. “It's been so long, and maybe...” He paused again, before realizing that the idea was ridiculous. Unless his brother Ben had been the recipient of a full-on brain transplant, there was no way in hell he was coming home for sentimental reasons. The old man was right: Ben wanted something.
“Think he'll come and see me?” Harry asked after a moment.
Jack paused. “No, probably not.”
“He didn't last time.”
“I know.”
“So he might not this time.”
“Maybe.” He paused again. “But he'll be around. Dad, you're gonna bump into him.”
“Don't see why I should.”
“A little thing called Christmas?”
“I'll just stay here on Christmas Day.”
“No, you won't.”
“I don't need to come to some big family thing,” Harry replied. “I can be perfectly happy with my own company.”
“And spend all day bidding on things online?”
“Better than spending all day -” The ol
d man paused. “Can't you get him to stay away?” he asked finally. “Talk to him, tell him there's no room this year. Tell him to put it off and maybe come next year, or the year after.” He sniffed again. “I'll probably be dead by then, God willing.”
“I can't tell him not to come.”
“You can. You and Beth can, together.”
“We can't.”
“You can!”
Sighing, Jack leaned back in the chair, and for a moment he and his father sat in silence, each with their own thoughts. The silence stretched out, filling the room, until they both seemed reluctant to be the first to speak again.
“I can't tell him not to come,” Jack said finally, not bothering this time to raise his voice for his father's benefit. “I can't tell my own brother to keep away at Christmas. He's coming and...” He paused, running through the possibilities before sighing as he admitted defeat. “He's coming and that's just the way it is. We can't do a damn thing about it.”
Harry, who was pretending not to have heard, simply stared at the dark window.
II
“Hey buddy, you mind if I sit here?”
Glancing to his left, Joe Baldwin saw that a scruffy, smiling guy was hovering next to the bar stool a little further toward the wall, waiting with a faint smile for an answer.
“Free country,” Joe muttered, before looking back down at his almost-empty beer. “Knock yourself out.”
“Sure it is,” the guy continued as he took a seat and signaled to the barmaid for a drink, “but you know, sometimes when a man wants to be alone, he needs a certain margin around him. A no-man's land of the soul, so to speak.” His smile broadened as he waited for a response.
Ignoring him, Joe picked up his glass and sloshed the remaining beer around, wondering how much was actually beer now and how much was spit. Finally, he leaned back and downed the lot, before sliding the glass toward Mel as she brought the stranger's drink.
“You sure about that?” she asked.
“Gimme another,” Joe replied.
“One more, then,” she told him, taking the glass. “Just one.”
“Same glass is fine,” he muttered, staring down at the bar. There was a chip in the wood he'd been working on, using his dirty nails to pull at the edges when Mel wasn't looking. After a moment, however, he realized the stranger was staring at him. He waited for the guy to look away, before finally turning to meet his gaze. “What?”
