Reasons to Leave (Reasons #1)

by Lisa J. Hobman

  Realising he was soaked in sweat, he jumped in the shower again and let the hot water melt away the memories of both dreams, feeling his muscles begin to relax as he stood under the cascade.

  Once out of the shower and dry again, he checked the time, seven o’clock. It was Saturday morning and he was at a loss. Should he go to the hospital? Should he get back on his bike and leave? He didn’t know what to do for the best. He ordered room service, but when it arrived, he looked at the plate full of food and his stomach turned. After trying a couple of mouths full, he decided that perhaps he should just admit defeat and he pushed the plate aside.

  After pulling on his leathers, he made his way downstairs. There was something he needed to do, and there was no time like the present.

  Chapter Twenty

  The little village of Heaton in the leafy London suburb was still as pretty as Jason remembered. There were more shops on the high street now in addition to the butchers and general store. His mum’s best friend had opened her own salon, and he could see her through the window as he drove by. She was bent over an elderly lady fixing curlers into place. Her bright red lips were still her main characteristic from what he could see. She had been his mum’s best friend for many years. He remembered her coming to their house to cut the family’s hair. He used to hate having his hair cut, probably the reason for its current length.

  He continued to the end of the village past the old doctor’s surgery and turned left down a little track that led to St. Cuthbert’s church. He hadn’t been there in so very long. Reverend Greenough had been a nice man, and Jason had often thought about going to ask for help but had never plucked up the courage. Looking back, he felt sure that the kind-natured soul would have helped him. But as he had once, rather cheesily, said to Stevie, “Hindsight is the bomb.”

  He leaned the bike on its stand and made his way over to the plot where his grandma and grandpa’s ashes were interned. Sure enough, beside their plot was a flower-covered grave with a stone that read, Here lies Shirley Margaret Reynolds. Loving mother and wife. Forever in our hearts and minds.

  Jason dropped to his knees before the stone and placed the small bunch of wild flowers he had gathered from the churchyard entrance where things had become a little over grown. He had always preferred wild flowers and remembered that his mum had too. He would bring her some back each time he returned from a picnic by the river with Stevie. Her face would light up, and she’d hug him tightly, telling him what a wonderful son he was. He didn’t feel very wonderful at the moment, here in the present where his mother lay in the ground beneath him.

  He traced the lettering on the headstone with his fingers. “Hi, Mum. I came back. It’s only a flying visit though. Mick is ill and I felt I had to come and… Oh, I don’t know… God, I hate the word closure but…” He gazed skyward. “Oh heck, I’m sorry God. I didn’t mean to use your name in vain like that… Anyway, as I was saying, I suppose closure is what I need.

  “Mum…I missed you…so much when I left… I thought about you all the time. The way you’d hug me and tell me everything would be all right. If only you’d been right about that. I missed your hugs…your encouragement…the way you used to smile at me and kiss my nose when I brought you flowers.” Several tears escaped his eyes and trailed down his cheeks.

  A sob escaped his chest. “I’m so sorry I wasn’t here for you in the end. I hope you didn’t suffer. I would’ve hated to see you suffer, but I should’ve been there… I should’ve helped…I…” He wiped at the salt water as it overflowed. “I just couldn’t stay. I hope that deep down you understood why I left…why I had to go. I couldn’t stand it anymore, Mum. I thought maybe you knew about it, but maybe not… I don’t know anymore. All I know is that I lost so much thanks to that…that man.” He clenched his jaw as anger rose to the surface once again. “I lost my family, my home, my friends…Stevie.” He rubbed his hands over his face.

  “She came to Scotland, you know. I was so shocked… Seeing her there was just…mind blowing. She’s so beautiful. Completely stunning…just like I remembered. But then you knew that. She said she’d kept in touch with you when I’d gone. I’m so grateful to her for that, but the thing is… I still love her, Mum. I broke her heart and left her and she should hate me, but I plucked up the courage and told her why and she forgave me… But in the end, she couldn’t love me back. I tried…I begged her to stay with me, but well, she couldn’t, and so I lost her all over again. I lost her, Mum… What am I going to do now?” He looked skyward again for a second as if expecting the answer to be made known to him.

  Silence ensued.

  He huffed out a long, shaking breath. “You’d love Scotland. The fresh air, the wild flowers. So many wild flowers…the dramatic scenery that can change at the drop of a hat. I mean it, Mum. One minute bright blue skies and the next raging thunder storms. It’s so beautiful. I wish I could’ve taken you. I wish you could’ve come to live there with me. You’d have been so happy.”

  He wiped his eyes again, his lips trembling as he spoke. “I hope he never did to you the things he did to me. I hope he never hit you. You were so lovely and just didn’t deserve that. I worried for so long about you and Dillon, but I had to leave. Please forgive me Mum, please… I’m so sorry.” Relentless hot tears streamed down his face as his shoulders shuddered under the force of the myriad emotions he was trying so hard to come to terms with.

  He sat for what seemed like hours in the peaceful tranquillity of the old graveyard. The wind rustled through the bowing branches of the trees, and he closed his eyes, wishing he was back home, sitting outside his cabin in the Cairngorms instead of sitting by his mother’s grave.

  He suddenly sensed a presence and opened his eyes to see an elderly man wearing a clerical collar standing over him. He clambered to his feet without speaking, and the man smiled warmly at him.

  “Jason, you’ve returned.”

  “Reverend Greenough…you…you recognise me?”

  The man looked much the same apart from a full head of grey hair instead of greying brown.

  “Young man, I would know that face anywhere.” He held his hand out toward Jason, who gripped it firmly and shook. “How are you? Are you well? Please, come in for a cup of tea.”

  “Oh, I should really go…but…”

  “I understand, son. I’m guessing this is only a fleeting visit. Is it because of your father?”

  Jason nodded. “But I have no desire to see him. You don’t know what went on… I…shouldn’t be here.”

  “Jason, I knew there had to be a very good reason why you left so suddenly. I felt so very guilty for so long. I prayed for you often…still do. I wish I’d made it clearer to you that you could turn to me in your hour of need. I would’ve liked to help you. But whatever your reasons, I know they were valid.”

  Jason nodded again. He walked toward the church gates and Rev’d Greenough walked alongside him. “Did you see my Mum much after I’d gone?”

  The reverend smiled sadly. “I did. She came here every Sunday without fail. She lit candles for you. You were on the intercession prayers list right up until she passed away. She felt sure you’d return one day. And I’m so glad you did. You proved her right. And the faith she had in you too.”

  Tears stung his eyes again. “Two years too late, though.”

  The reverend placed a hand on his shoulder. “Your mother wouldn’t have seen it that way. She blamed herself. She wished she could’ve done more…known more. But things were hidden from her too. Please know that. She was oblivious to how you felt until it was too late. The relationship between your mother and father suffered terribly when you’d gone. Even now, I don’t know what happened and I don’t need to know, but back then…with you gone there was nothing anyone could do to prove that things were amiss. Not that anyone was angry with you for leaving. People were just very worried.”

  “Thank you…thank you, Reverend Greenough. I think I needed to hear that. It doesn’t take away the guilt, but nothi
ng will I don’t suppose.”

  “Give it time, son.” He turned to walk toward the vicarage. He glanced back at Jason. “And whilst you are here, I really think you should consider visiting your father. This will be your last chance to say goodbye and to put to rest the wounds you still carry. Think about it, Jason. Take care. God bless you.” He turned and walked away, leaving Jason staring at his retreating form as he disappeared from view.

  He climbed back on his bike and glanced up the lane toward the main road. The hospital was a ten-minute ride away, and he sat there weighing up whether he should just go and get it over with. Although the man was unconscious and wouldn’t be able to answer his questions, perhaps just seeing him and talking at him for a while would be cathartic enough. He switched on the engine and set off, but made a turn for the river at the last second and found himself in the spot where he and Stevie used to spend many hours together.

  The place was still beautiful. It wasn’t Scotland, but it was still a place shrouded in memories. Some wonderful and some tinged with sadness and pain. He climbed off the bike, walked down toward the water’s edge, and sat for a while with his forearms resting on his knees. He closed his eyes, breathing in the familiar smells of his surroundings…of his past…and imagined that he was a teenager again. He thought back to one of their conversations that had stuck in his memory. It took him back to a happier time when Stevie was always beside him…

  “Do you think every couple goes through this?” she asked as he gazed down into her vivid blue eyes. The sound of the river flowing gently just below them was a tranquil soundtrack to their chatter.

  “Through what?” He was lazily running his hands through her hair as she lay sprawled out on her back with her head on his lap. His floppy fringe kept getting in the way, and he kept swiping it back. Stevie had joked that he needed a headband or braids.

  “This…” She gestured back and forth between them. “You know, wanting to spend every possible minute together. Do you think it’s…I don’t know…normal?”

  Jason laughed. “What’s normal? Not sure I’m familiar with the concept.”

  She slapped him lightly. “Be serious! Tell me what you really think.”

  He leaned forward and kissed her lips tenderly. “I think it’s as normal as things get. You and me…we’re like…cheese on toast…we’re just…meant to be.”

  “Cheese on toast? Couldn’t you think of anything more romantic as an analogy than cheese on toast?” She poked his leg, feigning annoyance.

  “Okay…” He looked skyward, pursing his lips whilst he contemplated.

  “I think we’re like Romeo and Juliet…only without the angst and death,” she offered.

  He laughed at her suggestion. “I was thinking more like Bonnie and Clyde…only without the crime spree and murder.” They both laughed.

  After a while, he shifted to lay beside her on the blanket they always took with them. “Do you know though…I think the best thing is…that we’re just…us. Stevie and Jason. Together…always and forever.” He pulled her into his body, held her face gently, and kissed her lips like he needed her more than anything in the world…more than food…more than air…more than life itself.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Stevie hung the last item of washing on her line and carried the empty basket inside. A motorbike rumbled outside and her heart leapt. Was it him? She stopped in her tracks and waited, holding her breath. The bike continued on its journey. Dammit. She closed the door behind her and grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge.

  It was another warm, sunny day, and once again she had no clue whether Jason had even received her message. She contemplated calling him again, but decided she’d done all she could. Anything more and she would sound like she was nagging when she had no right to do so. Especially not now that she knew everything.

  She had promised Dillon she would visit Mick again either tonight or tomorrow. He seemed to appreciate her going to visit his father, and so she was happy to go now that school was finished for the summer. She had mixed emotions about the man now, however, and wished he was awake so she could ask him why he had treated his son so badly.

  She picked up her phone and flicked through the messages to make sure she hadn’t somehow missed a call or text from Jason. But no. There was nothing.

  ****

  Jason stepped into the hospital and his nostrils were immediately assaulted with the smell of disinfectant and bleach, making him slightly nauseated. He had always hated hospitals; ironic considering the career his father had tried to force upon him. Slowly, willing one foot in front of the other, he made his way to the nurses’ station of ward nine when all he wanted to do was to turn around and leave.

  “Hello, can I help you?” The grey-haired lady behind the desk smiled as she spoke.

  Jason cleared his throat and looked around feeling rather inconspicuous. “Oh…yes…I believe my father is in here…erm…Michael Alexander Reynolds…he…erm, had a stroke.”

  “Oh yes.” She frowned. “But his son, Dillon has already been in. Who might you be?”

  He cleared his throat again. “I’m his other son…kind of…what do you call it…estranged? I’m Jason.”

  “I see…I see. Well, he’s very ill. I’m not sure how much you’re aware of, but…I’m so sorry. Perhaps you’d like to speak to the doctor? I know that this isn’t something you’ll want to discuss out here with me.”

  “No, it’s fine. I’m aware there’s little chance of his recovery. I just…need to see him.”

  The lady smiled kindly. “Of course you do, dear. He’s in room five, down the corridor and to the right.”

  He began to walk toward the room, counting down until he arrived at room five. The door was closed, and after taking a long, deep breath, he opened it and walked inside. He was greeted with the sight of a frail looking man, eyes closed, lying flat on a bed attached to all manner of bleeping and flashing machines. The man was grey-haired and pale. He bore very little resemblance to the man Jason had once known and feared. You could have been forgiven for thinking that this man had no malice in him. No anger. No aggression. But he knew different.

  He tentatively stepped toward the bed and looked down at the unconscious man. He wanted to feel something. Anything. But all he felt was numbness in his heart…or the space where one used to be. A nurse walked in and checked over the machines, marking on a clipboard chart, smiling at Jason.

  “You can sit with him. You’re family. It may help for you to talk to him,” the nurse offered before walking out and leaving him alone with the man once again.

  He walked over to the chair and sat down. “So you’re on your way out, are you, old man?” His voice was croaky and his mouth dry. “This is the second time today I’ve spoken to a dead parent…although you’re still clinging on I see. I have no clue why I’m even here. I owe you nothing, Mick. But you…you owe me so much.” He sat silently for a few moments as tears of anger welled in his eyes. He chewed on the inside of his cheek and clenched his fists in his lap.

  “I wish you could just answer my questions. I’ve got so fucking many. Why’d you do it, Mick? Why did you treat me so badly? Was I such a fucking disappointment? Did I show you up so badly that you had to hit me…punch me so fucking hard? Did I really deserve that? I was a little kid when it all started. All I wanted…all I needed was for you to be proud of me. All I wanted was for you to tell me you loved me and to mean it. Okay you said it in front of Mum and Dillon, but what about when it was just us, eh, Mick? Would it have hurt you so much to just show me some love? I can’t even bring myself to call you dad.

  “I left my home…my friends and my whole life thanks to you…beating me whenever I did the slightest thing wrong. I was a kid for fuck’s sake. No kid’s perfect. But no kid deserves that. Dillon wasn’t perfect, yet you never hit him with a belt or a stick, did you? You never punched him so hard he threw up. What did I do that was so fucking bad? I just don’t get it. I don’t get any of it.


  “You ruined my life. I wanted to marry Stevie. I would have married her, Mick. I would have been a good husband too. Well, I would have tried my best, that’s for sure. But you…you took that away…you took my future with her away!” He raised his voice at the man lying still and unaware before him. “Now she won’t let me into her heart again. Why? Why did you do it? Wake up and fucking tell me the answer, Mick!” He stood and towered over the oblivious man.

  He calmed himself and sat again. “Were you happy, eh? When I left? Was it what you wanted? Me out of the way? Were you happy that I walked out on everything and everyone that I loved just to get away from you? Well I hope you found it easy to live with yourself after what you did. I loved you. I would have done anything to have you love me back. I looked up to you. But you had to spoil things.”

  He dropped his head in his hands and let the tears flow. “I want to forgive you. I really do. I’m trying so hard. The thing is…you can’t hurt me anymore. All the damage has been done. You can’t break what’s already broken. So I suppose the only thing I can do is be the bigger person, eh? I’ll do what you could never do… I’ll forgive you.

  “I’ll never know your reasons…if you even had any…but today this ends, Mick…no more. It’s over. I forgive you.” He reached out and grabbed the cold hand that lay still before him. “I can’t forget but I can’t live with all this hate inside me either… I forgive you, Dad. So if that’s what you were waiting to hear, I’ve said it. You can go now.”

  He sat there for a few moments still clutching Mick’s hand. He stood to leave, and as he did so one of the machines intermittent beeping stopped. A flat line appeared on the screen.

  Mick was gone.

  Jason walked out of the room as two nurses rushed in. With tears streaming down his face, he walked past the nurses’ station as one of the nurses who had entered his father’s room jogged after him.