by Maria Farrer
If only I hadn’t left my bag in the toilet. If only Simon had been with me. If only Tyler hadn’t come to the party. If only I hadn’t gone with him, overslept, not been at Kelly’s when Gran arrived. If only I could turn the clock back and do it all differently. Right from the start. From the day Liam died. How could I be so stupid? Gran can’t die, she just can’t. Down the hill and round the corner, one house blurring into another. I know this route backwards, could do it with my eyes closed. At the main road, I hardly look up. A horn shrieks and I feel someone pulling me back on to the kerb.
“Watch what you’re doing,” says a man, holding the back of my shirt.
Cars whizz past and I’m sucked towards them. One step. That’s all it would take. I could get rid of all this in one step. So easy. But somewhere, deep inside, I know that it’s not the answer. I take a deep breath, take one step away from the kerb and wait for the beep, beep, beep of the signal on the pedestrian crossing.
By the time I get home, I’m light-headed and dehydrated. The house looks grey and empty. Mum’s window boxes, which used to be her pride and joy, are filled with the spiky-looking skeletons of last year’s flowers. I bend down and open the zip of my overnight bag, then search around for my keys.
This is ridiculous. I push my fingers into every corner, pulling out the contents. I shake out my sleeping bag. Search again. They’re not there. This is crazy. If they’d been in my handbag, I could understand. But they weren’t.
“Looking for these?” says a voice behind me.
I turn round and Tyler is standing there, my keys dangling from his finger.
I puff out my cheeks as panic dissolves into relief.
“What… I mean, how come you’ve got my keys?”
“I found them on the floor of the car.”
I flop forward and laugh. “THANK YOU,” I say. “Really, thank you.”
“They must’ve fallen out of your bag.” He walks towards the door, putting the keys in my outstretched hand.
“How did you know where to find me?”
“As you rightly pointed out last night, it’s not as if I don’t know where you live.”
“Yeah I know that, but how did you know that I was here – like now?”
“I’ve been waiting. I guessed you’d have to come back at some point. I couldn’t phone you. So I thought I’d better just turn up.”
“You’ve been waiting?” I look at him questioningly. “You could have been waiting for a long time; I’m supposed to be with Gran.” I close my eyes as I say her name.
“But she’s not well.”
“You know about Gran?”
“Only that she’s in hospital.”
I frown. “How would you know that?”
Tyler spreads his hands. “So this bloke Simon – your friend – was round at our place and he’s had a call from your mum saying your gran is in hospital and does he know where you are – or something like that.”
“Stop – STOP! Simon is round at Kelly’s?”
“Not any more he’s not.”
“But he was?”
“Seems like it. He was asleep upstairs when I found him.”
“So he was there, this morning, when we turned up?”
“Yeah, I guess. He wasn’t in a great state.”
“Shit.” I can’t believe Simon was there, at Kelly’s house. So he did turn up last night. And he stayed over even though I wasn’t there? And got drunk – apparently? This doesn’t sound like the Simon I know.
“What did Simon tell Mum?”
Tyler shrugs. “Nothing. Said he had no idea where you were. Sounded pretty pissed off if I’m honest.”
I sigh. Can this get any worse?
“You didn’t tell him, did you?” I say. “About where I was?” If this gets back to Mum and Dad there’ll be real trouble.
Tyler laughs. “No, didn’t say a word. Thought it was best if I stayed out of it.”
I nod an unspoken thank you at him. “And Kelly. What did she say?”
“Not much. She’s not good with a hangover. Simon was trying to extract information from her and it was going nowhere. I thought I’d better leave and that’s when I spotted your keys on the floor of the car.”
I fumble with the keys in the lock. Tyler is right behind me and the closeness of him sends a tiny ripple through my body.
“So is your gran going to be OK?” Tyler’s voice is full of concern.
“How would I know?” I snap. I fumble with the lock and realize I’m attempting to open the door with the café key. I’m angry with myself, not him.
“I’m sorry,” I say, turning to face him. “She’s had a heart attack. She’s in intensive care. I’m waiting for an up date from Mum and Dad.”
Tyler looks at the sky and I cover my face with my hands – my self-control collapsing. “If we hadn’t overslept…” It comes out as a desperate wail.
He touches my shoulder but takes his hand away again quickly. “Don’t say that!”
“It’s true.”
I turn and unlock the door using the right key. Tyler stands on the path, hands in pockets, head down.
“These things happen,” he says.
“They happen to me. They don’t happen to other people.”
“Can I come in?” he says. “I mean only if you want me to. I understand if you don’t.”
I’m pleased he wants to stay, and I stand to one side to let him in. He stops in the hallway, looks around and clears his throat.
“It’s different,” he says.
“Different to what?”
“Different to when Liam was alive.” As we walk into the kitchen he gives a small shiver, as if trying to shake off the memory. I don’t know what he’s thinking about because nothing has moved or changed.
“Drink?” I ask, pouring myself a glass of water.
“Thanks.”
I pull a glass down from the cupboard and hold it under the tap.
“Is his room still … you know?”
I shake my head. “There’s nothing much left. Mum burnt it all.”
Tyler frowns. “Everything?”
“Not the furniture, that’s still there, but everything else.”
“Jeez.” He runs his fingers through his hair and rubs the back of his head. “Do you ever go in there?”
“Sometimes. Mum keeps the door locked, but I know where she’s hidden the key.”
He walks about, touching things. Looking.
“Can I see it?” he says.
I pretend to search for biscuits in the back of the cupboard. I suddenly feel very possessive over Liam. I’m not sure I want to share his room with anyone else. I’m not sure I want to share Tyler with anyone else.
“There’s nothing to see.”
“Still.”
“I can’t.”
He picks up an old tankard that Dad keeps on the side, stares at it and puts it down again. I close the cupboard and watch him. He takes a couple of steps in my direction and touches my hand, very lightly. “If you don’t want to, that’s fine.” My skin tingles. I meet his eyes and I’m confused. Tyler looks uncertain too.
Maybe he senses me wavering.
“I just think it might help me,” he says. “You know, to move on – or whatever it is they say.”
I look at his hand on mine and I find myself nodding.
Tyler follows me as I climb the stairs. Outside Liam’s, he stops. From the entrance of Mum’s room, I watch as he leans forward and rests his forehead against the door.
“Wait there,” I say. “I’ll get the key.” I’m not sure he hears me. I don’t rush finding the key. It seems only fair to give Tyler a bit of space. This must be hard for him, coming back for the first time. It’s odd that someone who was so often with Liam is almost a stranger to me – though not
quite such a stranger as he was yesterday. Now I wish I’d had the chance to get to know him better. I remember Mum complaining that he and Liam spent too much time on the computer, that the music was too loud, that they never put their plates in the dishwasher. She could hardly moan at them for not taking enough exercise with all the running they did. They’re boys, was Dad’s answer to everything. When Tyler was around, the rest of us could go take a running jump – that was the message. And it still hurts, even thinking about it. But now there is no Liam…
I walk back with the key. Tyler is waiting. I unlock the door and let Tyler open it. He pushes it slowly, as if fighting an invisible force on the other side. I’m not sure whether or not to leave him alone.
“Shit!” he says, staring around as if trying to make some sense of what he’s seeing. “This is terrible.” His voice is almost a whisper and he folds his arms, hands gripping his biceps. He turns slowly, examining each part of the room.
“That signed poster he had of Mo Farah?” he says pointing at a place on the wall above Liam’s bed. “That could’ve been worth something. And all his books and his football stuff.”
“He didn’t even like football,” I say.
“I know. Still, he’d never admit that to your dad, would he?”
We share a smile.
Tyler lifts up the corner of the mattress and appears to search. “Everything’s gone.”
I wonder what he was expecting to find, but I don’t ask.
He runs his hands along an empty shelf. “I wish your mum hadn’t done this.”
“Me too.”
I sit down on the edge of the bed. Tyler touches the walls and trails his fingers over the bare furniture. Tiny movements as if testing the truth of what he’s seeing. Finally he flops flat down on the bed, head on the brown-stained pillow, staring up at the ceiling. I pull up my knees and hug them to my chest. The air between us hums with tension, an almost magnetic force holding us close but not letting us touch.
“I know Liam wants us to look after each other.” Tyler’s words are directed at the ceiling.
“What makes you so sure you know what Liam wants?” I rest my chin on my knees. “He’s not here any more. We both have to accept that.” I say it as much to reassure myself as to try to convince Tyler.
His first touch makes me close my eyes. I dare not move. His thumb makes little circles at the base of my back then, slowly, he traces my spine all the way up to my neck and back down again. Every part of me focuses on the sensation – every nerve, every muscle, every thought.
“You and Liam are very alike.” His arm slides around my waist.
I turn to look at him. “Are we?”
He lets go of me and shifts his hands to behind his head. Tingling anticipation is replaced by aching disappointment.
“Do you think he can see us?” he asks.
“Don’t be silly,” I laugh. I look around, half expecting to see Liam watching us from some shadowy corner. I’m not sure I want Liam’s intrusion in this part of my life. I’d like to keep something for myself. God knows, he seems to control every other aspect.
“I reckon he’d be happy if he could.” Tyler’s voice is slightly husky. Like his singing voice.
The room is quiet but I know he is looking at me. More than looking at me – looking inside me. As if checking to see that what I’m feeling is the same as he’s feeling. He cares about me. He cares that I’m here with him. I can sense it so strongly that it makes the pit of my stomach numb.
“Come here,” he says.
I hesitate, nervous, but incapable of resisting. I stretch out beside him so we are both lying on our backs, staring up at the ceiling. Then he puts his arm across me and pulls gently, trying to roll me towards him. I don’t give in right away. He laughs and uses more effort. I’m desperate to feel someone close to me – to feel Tyler close to me. I want to be wanted. I shift my body so I’m nestled against his side. We don’t kiss or anything. We just lie on the bed together, my head on his chest. He has one arm around me, the other curled so his fingers rest on Liam’s stone at my neck.
All I can hear is his heart beating.
I don’t know how long we lie there for. I feel calm and I don’t ever want to move. The shrill tone of the phone breaks the spell and I leap off the bed, launching myself towards the door and down the stairs.
Four rings, five rings, six.
“Hello,” I say breathlessly.
It’s Dad’s voice, slightly fuzzy. They’re on their way home, apparently. Gran is in a serious but stable condition. I’d better have some answers ready – that’s what he tells me.
Calm has vanished. Answers to what? How much do they know?
I have to get Tyler out of here.
I race back up and Tyler is already on the landing. “Shall I lock it?” he asks looking at Liam’s door.
“I’ll do it. You have to leave. My parents are on their way back.”
He nods.
The softness in Tyler has gone, any sense of closeness replaced by an awkward distance. I find it hard to know what to do or say.
He follows me back down the stairs.
“When can I see you?” he asks.
“Do you want to?”
He flicks the palm of his hand with his fingers. “Of course I do,” he says, taking a step towards me and touching my cheek.
“OK.” I try to stifle a small, nervous giggle. “I’d like to see you too.”
He smiles, opens the door and jogs the few steps towards his car. “See you soon then. Hope your Gran’s all right.” He doesn’t say goodbye – just climbs in and drives away.
The air around me vibrates with his physical energy. There is a definable space where he was standing. I’m clutching the keys to Liam’s room in my hand. Why am I shaking? I take the stairs two at a time. I mean to lock Liam’s door, but once again I’m drawn in. I lie down on the bed, the mattress still warm, and try to feel Tyler’s arms around me. The last twenty-four hours race through my head. I’m tired, very tired, and I have to fight the urge to close my eyes and sleep. I force myself off the bed and out of Liam’s room, replacing the key in Mum’s drawer and covering my tracks carefully. My footsteps on the stairs are heavy as I hear first one car door bang and then a second. Mum and Dad are back.
Something, some unconscious gesture, takes my hand to my neck. Liam’s stone! Visible so everyone can see it. I whip it off and stuff it in my bag as the front door opens.
Dad fills the door frame. Mum stands behind him, grey and fragile. I blush with guilt before anyone has said anything.
“How could you do it?” she says, her voice barely audible.
I retreat as they walk in.
“We talked to Simon,” says Dad. “We know you were at Kelly’s party. KELLY’S, for heaven’s sake. What could’ve possessed you? Did you stop to think for one minute? Going off partying when you were supposed to be with your Gran. And on the day … on the day…”
“On the day Liam died?” I say. For some reason being with Tyler has given me the strength to say the words. Dad glares at me.
“All those messages Gran left for you,” says Mum. “Trying to find you – telling you to get in touch. I don’t understand how you could ignore her – or us for that matter. You can’t imagine how worried we were. No one knew where you were. Gran can’t deal with that kind of stress.”
“And nor can we,” adds Dad. “But you’re too selfish to think of that.”
“You don’t need to rub it in!” I shout. “For your information, my phone was stolen. I didn’t get any of Gran’s messages and I had no way of contacting her – or you.”
“Your phone got stolen?” Dad asks with massive sarcasm. “Why am I not surprised? Trouble at the Dawsons’? Well, well! The point is–’ and Dad points at me to underline what he’s saying “–you should never have been ther
e in the first place.”
“Gran told me to go.”
“Don’t lie to us, Amber.”
“I’m not lying. She thought it would be good for me to get out and enjoy myself for once.”
“So where were you then? Why weren’t you there when she came to pick you up? Hmm? Hmm?” Dad’s tone rises and rises. I can’t think of an answer. “Who were you with, you little—”
“Derek!” says Mum, taking his hand. He shakes it off, staring at me, wide-eyed. Then he turns on her.
“And you’ve changed your tune. One minute you’re blaming Amber for everything, next minute you’re taking her side. I’ve had enough of this family.”
Mum pushes past us and heads upstairs.
“That’s it, go and get drunk,” shouts Dad behind her.
I know it’s not even worth trying to talk to Dad when he’s in this mood. I skirt past him and head up towards my room.
“This is all I need,” says Dad and his tone of voice makes something snap inside me.
“All you need!” I say, turning round and stamping back down the last few stairs towards him. “That’s all you think about, isn’t it? What you need. Have you forgotten that Liam was my brother as well as your precious son? Ever since he died, I may as well have not been here – apart from your stupid running schedules. You’ve never stopped for one second to ask me how I feel; if I’m OK. And for your information I am not OK. Gran was trying to encourage me to have some fun again. She said it was what Liam would want.”
“Go to your room, Amber.”
“And, in case you haven’t noticed, Mum is not OK either. She needs proper help and the sooner you recognize that the better. In fact, perhaps it’s YOU that needs help.”
Dad is still now. The air crackles.
“Go to your room now,” he says quietly.
Shouting is fine, quiet is scary. I take three steps backwards. “You can stop telling me what to do, because from now on I’m going to do what I want,” I say.
He walks towards me, threatening.
“NOW!” He blasts it right in my face, pointing with his arm outstretched up the stairs. I hesitate for another moment. Dad’s never hit me before and part of me wants him to hit me now – to lash out and make some form of physical contact. He doesn’t, so I turn slowly and walk up the stairs away from him. I feel cheated.
