by Mike Gayle
‘Are you sure?’ asked Dad. ‘I don’t want to be any trouble.’
Adam felt his heart melt for his dad who had done so many wonderful things for his son in his lifetime and now thought that a request for a cup of tea and toast must somehow constitute ‘trouble’.
‘It’s no trouble, Dad, honestly. No trouble at all.’
Adam filled the kettle and wondered again what was happening in his life. He focused mainly on the over-the-top reaction of Dee-the-promotions-girl at coming face to face with his dad in his living room. It would almost be funny if it a) hadn’t happened to him and b) he didn’t feel that right now his life was falling apart.
What could be going on in the mind of a sixty-eight-year-old man, a few months shy of his fortieth wedding anniversary, to make him decide to give it all up so that he could be on his own? It didn’t make any sense. Much as Adam liked his space, even he could see that one of the upsides of marriage was that you didn’t have to grow old and die alone. So this step that his dad had taken this close to seventy, well, he just couldn’t take it seriously. Maybe it was some kind of delayed mid-life crisis? Was it more of a wobble in confidence than an out-and-out statement of intent? Adam couldn’t imagine how his dad would last ten minutes alone, never mind ten days, without Mum.
The water for the tea came to the boil signalling to Adam that it was time to do the toast. He got out a loaf of white bread and dropped two slices into the toaster. He was just about to reach across for a plate when the phone on the kitchen counter rang.
‘Hello, Adam?’
It was Luke.
‘Where have you been?’
‘It’s a long story. I switched my phone off last night and forgot all about it.’
‘You and Russ, you’re both useless,’ snapped Adam. ‘What’s the point in having mobile phones if no one can get hold of you?’
‘What’s the problem? Is everything OK? No one’s ill are they?’
‘No, no one’s ill.’ Adam paused, thinking of how to say what needed to be said. ‘Look, mate, I can’t go into it on the phone. I just need you to get over to mine, OK? And bring Russ with you.’
An hour later Adam opened the door to his brothers. ‘Finally!’ he said, scowling in their direction. ‘I thought you pair were never going to turn up. Come in.’
‘What’s the big deal?’ Russell was clearly annoyed that Adam had invoked his right (by virtue of being the first born and the most physically imposing) to talk to his brothers like they were a pair of errant schoolkids.
‘I’d tell you but you’d never believe me. Just follow me and be prepared to have your minds blown.’
Exchanging puzzled glances Luke and Russell followed Adam into the front room where their dad was sitting uncomfortably on Adam’s slouchy low-level grey sofa staring up at the motor-racing on the huge flatscreen TV.
‘All right, Dad?’ Luke was confused. ‘What are you doing here?’
Dad looked guiltily at Adam. ‘I thought you were going to tell them?’
Adam shook his head. ‘You must be joking. You can’t tell this kind of news second-hand, Dad – I heard it directly from you and I still don’t believe it. No, Dad, this has to come from you and you alone.’
‘It’s not Mum is it?’ asked Russell. ‘She’s OK, isn’t she?’
‘You’re mother’s fine,’ replied Dad. ‘There’s nothing wrong with her at all.’
‘OK,’ said Luke, struggling to remain calm ‘this is ridiculous. We’ve established that Mum’s fine, and as far as I can see you’re fine too, Dad, and I’m pretty sure that me, Russ and Ad are all hunky-dory, so just put me and Russ out of our misery, will you? It doesn’t matter who, but will one of you explain what it is that’s going on because you’re both freaking me out with all this.’
Dad stood up from the sofa to put himself on a level with his sons. ‘Look,’ he said, addressing Luke, ‘what you’ve got to understand is that this situation . . .’ He paused and looked over at Russell to include him too. ‘Well, the thing is it’s really difficult for all of us. There aren’t any rights and wrongs. There’s just . . . I don’t know . . . lots of shades of grey.’
Adam could see that Luke was getting impatient. Dad, usually one of the most straight-talking people in the history of the world, was suddenly talking in the fluffy touchy-feely manner of a daytime talk show host. If ever there was a red alert signal this was it. Men were the problem with this situation, thought Adam. Here they were, four grown men standing in a room trying desperately to communicate with each other and failing miserably.
‘Look, Dad,’ said Luke. ‘Whatever it is you’ve got to say just say it, OK?’
‘Very well then.’ He took a deep breath and told them everything.
‘Why don’t we all just calm down for a second?’
Russell didn’t know where to look, or even what kind of expression should be on his face. His father’s news had rendered him well and truly speechless. Plucking up the courage to meet the gaze of the other members of his family in the room, he registered that his father looked weary; Luke looked like he was about to explode in rage; and Adam looked like all he wanted was to go back to bed and pretend this day had never happened.
Russell barely understood his dad’s explanation. In fact it was as though Dad didn’t really understand it himself even though he was at the centre of it. But the long and the short of it seemed to be that he had left Mum. Having a lot of time on his hands since his retirement five years ago Dad had apparently started to think about his life and begun to wonder how it might have been different if he had never married and had children. All this wondering might have ended up nowhere but a few weeks ago he had bumped into Roger, an old friend from his time on the buses, and they had gone for a drink together and over a couple of pints of stout George had learned that Roger had just split up with his wife Marion after forty-four years together. Roger professed to be having the time of his life now that he was single and that was it. The seed was planted in the boys’ father’s head and it started to germinate. It was possible to start again. It was possible to live the life that you always wanted to live: a life free of commitments and compromises; a life where he could just do his own thing. Over the following weeks he packed and unpacked a suitcase several times and even got as far as calling for a taxi but always changed his mind at the last minute. Then last night with Joan spending the night away at Aunt Rose’s in Leeds he had packed his suitcase, placed a letter that had taken him all day to write on the telephone seat in the hallway and called a taxi to take him over to Adam’s. He explained his choice of destination thus: ‘Luke’s got Cassie, Russell shares his house with strangers so Adam’s really was my only option.’ On hearing the minicab beep its horn outside the house he had removed the spare keys to Adam’s house from the living-room drawer, taken one last look around the house, locked the door behind him and headed over to Adam’s house secure in the knowledge that Adam being Adam would most likely be out until the early hours. George had taken the duvet from the bed in the spare room and settled down on the sofa to wait for his eldest son’s arrival home. At roughly six a.m. Adam had arrived home with a young lady who Dad had never seen before and said young lady had entered the living room to discover Dad in his boxer shorts. She had screamed. The rest, as they say, is history. Now all he wanted was for Joan to keep the house and everything in it and allow him to find a place of his own to rent and try his best to be happy.
Russell looked up at his dad. ‘I don’t understand.’ George looked confused. ‘I don’t understand what you’ve just said, Dad,’ he clarified.
George looked at the ground. ‘Don’t get me wrong, boys, it’s not like I don’t love your mother. I do. I really do. She’s a great woman and has done an outstanding job of raising you three boys into the fine men you are today.’
Luke spat a terse and dismissive ‘But?’ in Dad’s direction.
George refused to acknowledge the hostility in Luke voice. ‘There is always a “but�
� with these situations isn’t there? And the “but” here is me. It’s not your mother’s fault and it’s certainly not you boys’ fault either. If there’s anyone at all to blame it’s me. This is all my fault.’
‘Well you’re not wrong there,’ snapped Luke. He walked towards the window as if he couldn’t trust himself to be in too close proximity to his father. ‘Of course it’s not Mum’s fault and why would any of us think it’s our fault? It’s got nothing to do with us at all. I don’t even know what you’re thinking. None of this is making any sense.’ Russell watched Luke’s face and felt a tight ball of tension in his stomach. The suggestion that Luke was about to make hadn’t even crossed his mind until this moment and even the thought of it made him feel sick.
‘There isn’t anyone else involved, is there?’ asked Luke.
‘Of course not,’ replied their dad, genuinely horrified at the question. ‘What kind of man do you take me for?’
‘I don’t know, Dad,’ replied Luke, ‘with this news you’re making it hard for me to tell.’
‘Look boys, I know you’re angry—’
‘Angry doesn’t even begin to describe it, Dad!’ interrupted Luke. ‘It’s like we don’t even know you. How can you just stand there and tell us that after the best part of forty years of marriage you’ve had enough and you’re off? How did you think we were going to react? Did you think we’d congratulate you? Well done there, Pops, for smashing up the family unit?’
Luke’s anger was rising. Something needed to be done to bring the temperature of the room down a few degrees before things got said that they would all regret. Russell glanced over to Adam in the hope that he might step up and do the big brother thing but he clearly wasn’t about to. Maybe Adam, having had time to deal with his reactions, was simply standing back and giving himself and Luke the opportunity to get fully up to speed.
‘Look,’ Russell was surprised by the forcefulness of his own voice used in the presence of a group of people with whom he was rarely if ever forceful, ‘why don’t we all just calm down. I understand this must be really difficult for you, Dad,’ continued Russell in his role as peacemaker, ‘but I’m still having a lot of trouble getting my head round this, so if Luke and I both promise to keep our mouths shut, will you tell exactly what’s happened?’
Everyone nodded and Dad explained everything again only this time more slowly and with a lot more detail.
‘OK Dad,’ said Adam, aware that his brothers were looking at him with a ‘So what now?’ expression. ‘Now we’ve got to sort out the way forward. First thing we need to know is what time Mum’s getting back.’
‘I’m not sure,’ said Dad. ‘Maybe you should go over there now and make sure she’s all right. She’ll need all the support she can get.’
‘Too right,’ snapped Luke in his father’s direction. ‘In fact I’m getting out of here right now. Just being in the same room with you is driving me insane.’
‘Luke, wait!’ commanded Adam. ‘Just wait, OK? And then we’ll all go. Look, Dad, with the best will in the world I really can’t take the idea of you and Mum splitting up seriously. I don’t know what’s going on with you but I’ve got a strong feeling that you’re going to regret this once Mum finds out. So here’s what going to happen: you’ll stay here, me, Luke and Russ will go over to yours and get rid of the letter, we’ll tell Mum you felt ill last night, stayed at mine and that you’re fast asleep now. Then once you’ve had a couple of hours to yourself we’ll pick you up and take you back home, OK?’
‘You’re talking as though you haven’t heard a word I’ve said!’ shouted Dad. He took a moment to compose himself. ‘I know it’s hard for you boys but it really is over between your mum and me and I’m not going back. So just leave the letter where it is and let things proceed the way they were meant to.’
‘Not a chance!’ snapped Luke. ‘Maybe we can’t make you stay if you don’t want to, but I’m not going to let you split up with a woman you’ve been with for forty years by letter!’
Dad didn’t say a word. He sat down on the sofa and hung his head in his hands.
‘Luke’s right, Dad,’ said Russell. ‘You can’t just walk out on Mum like that.’
Still no word.
‘They’re both right,’ said Adam. ‘This is no way for things to end. So you’re doing what you think you’ve got to do, but we’re doing exactly the same.’
‘Do you think I’m stupid?’
As Luke’s car pulled into Mum and Dad’s road Adam was thinking how odd it had been to hear his father talk about his emotions like that. Adam had never seen such an explicit emotional outburst from his father in his life. Not when his grandad Tom died, not when Uncle Al died, not even when at the age of fifteen Adam had had to break the news that Luke had been knocked down by a car outside school. These were all times when the whole family had been in tears and yet their dad had never shared a single shred of what was going on inside his head. Instead he took action; he made arrangements and got things organised and remained calm and focused throughout. Even though they were polar opposites Adam had always admired his father’s lack of emotion because that meant there was at least one member of the family he didn’t have to worry about. Maybe it was an eldest child thing; the fear that goes hand in hand with knowing that his brothers were always looking to him for leadership. Yet while as a child (and later as a teenager) Adam worried about every member of his family (his mum especially) whenever they left the home without him, he never, ever worried about his dad because he knew Dad could look after himself.
‘Maybe we should have called Mum on her mobile and told her that we’d pick her up,’ said Russell as the car came to a halt outside his parents’ house. ‘You know, just to be on the safe side.’
‘Have you tried talking to Mum on her mobile?’ scoffed Adam. ‘First of all it’s a miracle if she answers it at all and secondly she can never hear anything you say so you end up bellowing into your phone like some kind of nutter. Anyway, you know what trains are like. She’s probably running late.’
‘Oh yeah?’ said Luke, who was still very much in glowering mode. ‘Then how come I can see her in the front bedroom opening the curtains?’
Adam leaned across his brother and peered out of the passenger window up at the house. He was right. Their mum was indeed opening the upstairs curtains.
‘Don’t panic,’ he said. ‘You know what Mum’s like when she gets back from being away. It’s always shoes off, kettle on and make a brew, so chances are she’s breezed past the letter on her way upstairs to give the house one of her famous “good airings” even if she’s only been away overnight. Let’s just keep calm, grab the letter and make this as quick and as painless as possible. Because do you know what? I’m shattered and after I’ve finished patching up our parents’ marriage the first thing I’m going to do is head home, climb into bed and try to forget this day has ever happened.’ He paused and took a deep breath. ‘Right then, let’s go.’
The boys climbed out of the car, made their way up the front path and paused while Adam used his set of keys to open the door. They could see their mum’s overnight bag sitting in the middle of the carpet but there was no sign of the letter. They began frantically searching around the hallway in the hope that it had accidentally fallen off the stool but to no avail. Adam was just about to suggest that they split up and check over the house when he became aware that they were no longer alone: his mum was standing at the top of the stairs watching them.
‘Mum,’ said Adam guiltily. ‘You’re home.’
‘Of course I’m home,’ she replied tersely. ‘There’s my bag and shoes right in front of you.’
‘Yes, yes, of course,’ said Adam. His mum came downstairs and he gave her a kiss with Luke and Russell following suit.
‘So what are you all doing here?’
‘Nothing,’ replied Adam casually. ‘We were just passing on our way to a thing in town so we thought we’d drop in and say hello.’
Russell step
ped forward. ‘Did you have a good trip?’
‘It was fine.’
‘And the taxi ride over here was OK?’
‘It was all fine.’
‘I know,’ suggested Adam, determined to move her out of the current hallway search zone. ‘Why don’t you put your feet up and we’ll put your stuff away for you?’ He tried to usher his mum into the living room but she refused to budge.
‘Do you think I’m stupid?’
Adam was confused. Although his mum had always been a big fan of rhetorical questions he couldn’t work out what had provoked this one. ‘I never said anything of the sort, Mum,’ he said cagily. ‘I was just suggesting that you have a rest. Since when was that a crime?’
‘Adam,’ she said fixing him with her most stern look, ‘do I look like an idiot to you?’ She didn’t wait for his response. ‘Then don’t treat me like one.’ Then she made her way into the kitchen.
Adam exchanged perplexed glances with his brothers and followed. She was in the process of filling the kettle but as the boys entered the room she carefully turned off the tap, set down the kettle on the kitchen counter and faced them.
‘This is about your father, isn’t it?’
‘What do you mean?’ bluffed Adam.
A look of utter exasperation flooded her face. ‘Adam,’ she said carefully. ‘What did I tell you less than a minute ago about treating me like an idiot?’
Adam decided the game was up. ‘You mean you’ve already seen the letter?’
‘What letter?’
‘The letter from Dad?’
‘What letter from Dad?’
Adam’s brain was about to explode. ‘Are you saying that you haven’t seen the letter Dad wrote to you?’
‘I’ve just told you that,’ snapped his mum impatiently. ‘Have you got something wrong with your ears?’
‘I don’t understand,’ said Adam. ‘If you haven’t seen the letter then what do you think we’re here about?’
