by P. Wish
Detective Myers waited for Brian to answer. He wasn’t going to give away what was in the note.
“What regrets? Towards whom?”
“I’m afraid I can’t say much more.”
“I…I don’t think I’ll be able to help you. We haven’t been in touch for a while,” Brian Greene said. “I should’ve called him. After I moved to America, we kinda grew apart.”
“So you weren’t in touch?”
“I understand why he put my name as the emergency contact but….no. We spoke only once every few months. I can’t say that gave me any insight into his psyche.”
“The news must’ve been sudden.
“It was. It really was….”
“Thank you for coming to the funeral on such short notice.”
Mr. Greene nodded. “Oh no. I flew out as soon as I got your call.”
“Until when are you staying?”
“I’ll be staying three days. Unfortunately, I need to get back to work.”
“That leaves us very little time. This might not be the best time, but I wanted to ask you a few questions about Mr. Greene.”
Brian looked at Gary Myers.
“I heard Mr. Greene was previously married. Is there anything you can tell me about her?”
“Amanda?”
“Was that her name?”
“Yes.”
“How long were they together?”
“Thirteen years, I believe.”
“Did they have any children?”
“A son.”
“A son, huh?” Detective Myers wrote it down. “Mr. Greene has never mentioned this son of his.”
Amanda had custody of him. He lived with his mother after they separated.”
“And Mr. Greene? Did he ever see his son?”
“She had sole custody but he spoke to him every day. At least that’s what he said.”
“Does he still live with her?”
“I don’t know. He must be off to university now.”
“How old is he?”
“Must be eighteen or twenty. I can never remember birthdays. I’m sorry I’m not being much help, am I?”
“No, You’re very helpful. It must be overwhelming for you. Were you and your late brother close?” A dumb question to ask, considering how little Brian knew about Herbert’s life.
“No. We’re not brothers, really. We’re cousins. Second cousins.”
“He has your name listed as his emergency contact.”
“His sister died in an accident and my aunt isn’t alive, so I’m the only one he knows. Aging can be depressing. You see everybody die and wonder when it’ll be your turn.” His eyes zoned out.
“When did you move to America?”
“In 1980.”
“And how often have you visited your cousin since?”
“Only once or twice.”
“A year?”
“No. Twice in twenty-two years. Herbert was in Paris when I visited, so I don’t know if that counts.”
“You haven’t been in touch with Mr. Greene—Herbert?”
“Not very much, I’m afraid. You probably know how quiet he was. I never knew what was going on in his mind. When I moved to America in 1980, I used to call him every weekend, but we grew apart and…I hadn’t spoken to him in ages.”
“So I assume you aren’t in touch with his ex-wife and his son either?”
“No.”
“How did you know about the divorce?”
“Herbert told me about it on phone.”
“Was it hard for him?”
“The divorce? Yes. Divorces always are.”
“Well, thank you for coming here on such short notice. I’m sure it’s been hard on you,” Detective Myers said, watching the row of teachers in black garb disappear. Mr. Greene nodded and stepped away. Detective Myers walked behind him.
“Is there any chance you might know Amanda’s contact details?”
“Amanda? You want to contact her?”
“I think his son should know about his death.”
“You’re right. Unfortunately, I haven’t been in touch with them at all, but I’ll see if I can find something for you. I’m sure I have it written down somewhere.”
“Thank you. That would be very helpful,” Detective Myers said. “What was her full name?”
“Amanda…Amanda Brown. Yes. Amanda Brown. That’s what it was,” Brian Greene said. Detective Myers stopped. “Is something wrong, Detective?”
“You go ahead,” he said.
Brian Greene walked towards the grave, leaving Jane and Gary behind.
“Jane.” Gary walked towards her, his feet squeaking in the damp soil. Jane stood away from the graves, near a tree.
“You’re busy today,” she said.
“I’m sorry,” Gary said. He stood next to her, watching the grey, cloudy sky pour endlessly. “About Charlie.”
Jane turned suddenly, her eyes wide with surprise. Trying to hide the tremor that was shaking her voice, she said, “You know?”
“I asked Mark,” Gary said, turning to her.
“When?”
“Earlier this week. I had no idea. Is that why you left?”
“How is Mark?”
Gary smiled. “Still the same. Addicted to coffee, cigarettes and sleep-deprived.”
“Aren’t you glad you’re in the country?”
Gary shrugged. He was silent for a moment. “Does this place remind you of him?”
Jane looked at him. Gary was always a good observer.
“You know me so well.”
He smiled. Jane and Gary looked at the horizon.
“I couldn’t go on,” Jane said. “That’s why I quit.”
“You loved him so much. It must’ve been hard.”
“You have no idea.” Her voice verged on breaking.
“No, I don’t,” he said, his voice low.
“Do you know how he died?” Jane asked, her eyes welling with tears.
“Mark told me,” Gary said, his deep voice raspy with emotion. “I’m so sorry.”
“I can’t forget him, Gary. It’s been a year and a half but…everything reminds me of him.”
“Did you remember him during the funeral?”
Jane nodded. The scenery before her eyes began to blur as tears flooded her eyes.
“I’m pathetic,” Jane said. Her voice broke. The tears that were studded in her eyes began to flow down her face. “I’m a pathetic mother. I didn’t even know what he was going through.”
Detective Myers moved in, holding her close. “It’s all right.”
“When…when Charlie lay there on the floor…with those pills…I…” Jane closed her eyes, tasting the bitterness in her salty tears. She took a deep breath, brushing them away.
“I wished it were me instead of him. He did nothing wrong. It doesn’t make sense,” Jane said, her voice hoarse.
“Things don’t always make sense, Jane.”
“Why did it have to be him? Why didn’t I do better? Every day since his death, I’ve asked myself those questions.”
“Hmmmm…”
“These two years have been very hard for me. I don’t know if I’ll ever go back to being who I was,” Jane said. “I could’ve been there for him… I should have been there for him …I should’ve stopped him from dying,” Jane said, sobbing silently.
“It’s in the past.”
“That doesn’t make it better. He won’t come back, Gary.”
Through her blurry vision, Jane saw that only Mrs. Wolverhampton and Mr. McEwan remained standing.
“There’s nothing you can do about it,” Gary Myers said.
“You’re not very good at consoling people,” Jane said. Gary smiled. She stepped away from him and brushed the rest of her tears away.
Detective Myers looked at the disappearing group of teachers and nodded. Together, they walked down the hill.
“But thank you,” Jane said when they reached the base of the hill.
“For what?
”
“For listening to me. I haven’t been able to talk to anybody since he died.”
“You can talk to me,” he said.
“Thanks,” Jane said, hurrying back towards the grave.
“Where were you?” Mrs. Wolverhampton asked.
“I went over to the hill,” Jane said.
“We’re leaving,” Mr. McEwan said.
Jane turned back and saw Gary’s solitary silhouette standing next to the row of trees. She smiled for the first time in the longest time.
Chapter 4
I ask myself, “What are you going to do when this is over?”
Then, I smile. Because I know this is never going to end.
—Robert Brown
April 14, 2002
At 10:00 p.m., Jane headed to St. John’s, the girls’ dormitory, for dorm duty. A stony path led to the dorm from the main building next door. A Victorian lamp illuminated the name of the hall that was carved on grey stone.
Jane looked at the rectangular building with a sloping roof. It reminded her of a brick house from a fairy tale. The lights outside the door illuminated the green ivy with tiny white flowers that covered the surface of the dormitory. Lights shone on the other side of the grate-covered rectangular windows.
Inside, Jane walked through the noisy dormitory lined with a dull, beige carpet. High-pitched voices giggled. Jane met the resident tutor, Alex. Alex had large grey eyes and an irritable expression. Her nose was sharp and long. Her blond hair was pulled back into a bun behind her head. She looked at Jane suspiciously.
“I’m Jane. I’m the new biology teacher.” She extended her hand, and Alex shook it.
“I’m glad you’re here to help out,” Alex said. “It’s almost time for the girls to go to bed.”
“I’ve never done dorm duty before,” Jane said.
“I’ll help you,” she said. Jane smiled.
Alex gave Jane a tour of the dormitory and explained her duties. It had a hundred rooms with two students in each room. There was a library, a small gym, two vending machines, a laundry room and six common rooms, two on each floor. Alex left Jane on the ground floor and headed to the first floor. Jane walked through the corridor. She heard a sound coming from the common room and stopped outside the pale wooden door.
Through the one-inch opening of the door, Jane saw a light in the dark common room. The lights were off, and a solitary TV screen flickered in the dark room. She heard voices, giggling, breathing and panting in the dark room. She moved closer to the door.
“You know what he wrote?”
“No. I’m surprised you do.” A voice of reason.
“I could never forget.” It was Melissa’s voice. “I can never forget that day.”
“Wait, Robert had a diary?”
“Nobody’s even heard of it. How did you end up reading it?”
“I did. He used to write when he was in class…I found him writing in the library once and sneaked a look.”
“That’s not enough to know what he’d written.”
“Not all of it, but I read enough.”
“Enough to…?”
“Know he was being bullied,” she said, her voice firm. “And he was having a difficult time coping with it. Reading the diary…it was an out-of-body experience.”
“You’re exaggerating.”
“That’s obvious.”
“No, I’m not. He said he was suffocating in his own body,” Melissa said. She paused. “He didn’t feel like he belonged here. Even getting through each day was difficult for him. But he didn’t quit because it would disappoint his mother. So he continued to face his bullies every day, writing and holding on to the hope that someday, it would stop.”
Jane swallowed. Her hand was on the door handle.
“Whoa. I don’t believe you read a single word.”
There was a moment of silence.
“But they never stopped,” a low voice interrupted.
“No.”
“How do you remember all this, Melissa? You were only ten!”
“Old enough to understand what I was reading. I put two and two together-”
“And made the whole thing up.”
“Not the whole thing.”
“Some of it.”
“But I did read a little.”
“I guess you couldn’t have made all that up. You’re not good with words. Especially if they mean anything.”
Melissa clicked her tongue.
“That’s mean.” One of the girls said. Not that Melissa cared. She went on.
“And that’s not all. He wanted to leave.”
“Bullying…it doesn’t happen at St. Anne’s anymore.”
“Why do you think that is?” Melissa asked.
“Because of Robert?”
“Exactly. Mrs. Wolverhampton made sure those incidents stopped once and for all.”
“You know how straitlaced she is. The school’s image is all she cares about.”
“Is that why he decided to…you know, end his life?” a voice asked, interrupted. “Bullying?”
“That’s what the detective said.”
“And you disagree.”
“I don’t think he lost hope,” Melissa said. “He was hanging on to a last thread of hope.”
“A last thread of hope?”
“He had made it into Oxford for a summer course on a scholarship.”
“Really? How do you know this?”
“There were rumors floating around at school about it.”
“Why did I never hear these rumors?”
“You don’t know where to listen.”
“Did he go?” one of the girls asked.
“Huh?”
“Did Robert go to Oxford?”
“No. He died that spring.”
“Damn. I wish it didn’t end that way.”
“What happened to the diary?”
“That’s a really good question.”
“I don’t know. The detective must’ve taken it,” Melissa said.
“When did you read this diary?”
“Before the detective found it.”
“That doesn’t make sense.”
“What time is it?” one of the girls interrupted.
“Do you think Alex is looking for us?”
“It’s past bedtime. We need to get out.”
One of the girls turned on the lights. Jane saw six girls sitting in the room. Melissa’s eyes met hers. Jane opened the door and walked in.
“Good evening,” Jane said. “I’m on duty tonight. And it’s time for you to go to bed.”
Their expressions changed. The tall girl surveyed Jane. Melissa’s eyes remained frozen on Jane.
“The lights go off in fifteen minutes,” Jane said.
Slowly, the girls stood up. One of them turned the television off. They walked through the corridor and disappeared into their rooms. Melissa stood in the common room, her eyes fixed on Jane. She was the last one to leave.
April 15, 2002
The next morning, Jane headed down to the dining hall for breakfast. The dining hall was filled with students dressed in school uniforms. Voices buzzed under the high ceiling. The chandelier hung over the long central table positioned in the dining hall. Jane picked up her ID card and plate. Irene smiled at her from behind the counter. Jane waved to her.
“It’s a bright morning today,” Irene began. “We haven’t had a sunny day this week.”
“It’s good to see some sunshine once in a while,” Jane said, spooning some scrambled eggs onto her plate.
“The veggie grill is the highlight of the day,” Irene said. Jane placed a veggie grill on her white porcelain plate. “How have you been getting on?”
“Good…I can’t believe it’s been a week already. I feel like I’ve been here forever.”
“Bored already?”
“No, I quite like it here.”
“This place has its own charms,” Irene said.
“How long have you been here?�
�
“Forever. I’m from here. I’ve lived most of my life.”
“And you like it?”
“I used to hate it as a kid. But after I worked in Manchester for a few years, I grew homesick. So, here I am.”
The door opened, and Mr. McEwan appeared. Irene waved to him. He smiled and headed to the tea counter.
“He’s addicted to peppermint tea,” Irene said, following his movement. “He drinks it every day.”
“At least he won’t get a cold,” Jane remarked.
Irene glanced at the row of students who stood behind Jane. Irene leaned in.
“He’s been here more than a decade. St. Anne’s is home to him.”
“Doesn’t he have any family?”
“His wife passed away a while ago. His kids live in Birmingham. He’s all alone here,” Irene said with a sigh.
Students filled the display of hot food, spooning dishes onto their plates. Chef Kalra emerged from the kitchen and poured some scrambled eggs into the almost-empty steel dish.
“I invited him to my place for Easter this year. I didn’t know he had so much in common with my mother. You should hear them when they talk about sixties rock ’n’ roll…they could go on all night. She didn’t want him to leave.”
Jane smiled. She stepped away from the kitchen area and made her way to an empty table near the window. She placed her tray on the table and looked out the window. The edges of the green grass were illuminated by sunshine. She heard the sound of plastic drum on the table and turned. Oliver stood before her, flashing a smile.
“It’s a nice day, isn’t it?”
“It’s good to see the sun, finally,” Jane heard a heavy voice say. Mr. McEwan placed his tray on the six-seater table.
“Exactly my feelings. Good morning,” Jane said. She smelled the peppermint tea that sat on the edge of the table.
“Reminds me of my days as a student here,” Oliver said, sighing.
“That wasn’t too long ago,” Mr. McEwan said.
“Five years ago.”
“I’m getting old,” Mr. McEwan added with a chuckle. “We were all so proud when you got into Cambridge. Who knew you’d come back here?”
Oliver smiled. “Who knew?”
“Jane, that reminds me, I fixed the window in your room,” Mr. McEwan said.
“Thank you. I’m looking forward to having it open once the weather improves.”
