‘Then you’ll come back here, we’ll get raging drunk, and we’ll carry on as we have been.’
She made it sound so simple.
I set off that afternoon.
TOM
Just after the Christmas following Simon’s sixteenth birthday my dad started to have some health problems. At first it was nothing specific, just a cold that lingered, but as time went by it developed into a chest infection. After that had cleared up he was left with underlying lung issues that the doctors couldn’t seem to pin down. I know it sounds daft but, for the first time, we became aware of the fact that our parents wouldn’t live for ever and we made a conscious effort to visit them more often. I popped in to see my mum and dad at least twice a week after work and Michelle did the same with hers.
By the summer, the visits had become a regular part of our lives.
I didn’t pay close attention to the unfamiliar car that was parked a little further along the street – I noticed that it was green and thought it looked like a Fiesta, but I couldn’t be sure. I could see the silhouette of someone in the driver’s seat so I guessed that they were either coming or going and I didn’t really care which.
When I left an hour or so later, I gave a cursory glance up and down the street to check for oncoming traffic before I opened the driver’s door of my car. I wasn’t surprised to see the green car still parked where it had been until I noticed there was still someone sitting in the driver’s seat. I wondered what were the chances of them arriving and leaving at the same time as I had; what a coincidence.
I got in the car, settled into the seat, started the engine and made a mental note to ask my mum about the people that had moved into the house that the green car was parked in front of. I assumed it had finally been sold and I was curious about who had moved into the house that my friend Paul had lived in. I put the car in gear and had to wait for a red Mini to pass before I could move off.
As I pulled alongside the green car, which was a Fiesta, by the way, the man in the driver’s seat turned away as if looking at something on the passenger seat. Trouble for him was that he hadn’t turned far enough. My stomach lurched when I saw the familiar tilt to the stranger’s head.
When I got home, the talk was of Simon’s impending GCSE results and the need to get Michael another pair of regulation charcoal grey trousers before he started secondary school in a few weeks’ time.
The boys in question both took my arrival as an excuse to leave the room and Michelle told them not to go far as tea wouldn’t be long. She smiled at me and mouthed a greeting in my direction. I forced a smile, but I couldn’t fool my wife.
‘You all right?’ she asked.
I said that I was but she wasn’t convinced and asked if I was sure.
‘Yeah,’ I nodded my head to emphasise my answer but I didn’t meet her eyes.
‘How’s your dad?’ she asked as she turned her attention back to what she was cooking.
‘He’s good,’ I said. ‘Mum says he hasn’t coughed all day.’ I’d moved across the kitchen to stand beside her and I rested my hip on the counter as I looked at her. I wanted to tell her what I thought I’d seen but I didn’t have the words and, when she smiled at me again, I didn’t have the heart to say anything. Instead I said, ‘Have I got time to get changed?’ and she said that tea would be about ten minutes. I used that as a chance to go to our bedroom.
Once there I closed the door, turned around, and rested my weight against it. I let my head fall backwards and my eyes settled on the place where the wall met the ceiling. I could feel my heart pounding in my chest and I was taking short sharp breaths. For the first time in my life I had a panic attack.
I knew what – or rather who – I had seen and no matter how much I wanted to be wrong I knew that I wasn’t.
I would have known him anywhere.
The first thing I noticed when I visited my parents a couple of nights later was that there was no sign of the green Fiesta or its occupant. The second thing that I noticed was that Dad was in the garden.
‘What you up to?’ I asked. ‘I thought the doctor told you to take it easy.’
He leaned on his spade and said, ‘I am.’ He took a sneaky look at the house and said, ‘I’ve had to come out here. Your mum’s driving me nuts.’
‘Why?’ I asked. ‘What’s wrong with her?’
‘You tell me!’ Dad dabbed the ground with a spade but didn’t make a dent in the soil that hadn’t been rained on for days. ‘She can’t sit still for two minutes,’ he said. ‘Up and down, up and down, all day long.’
‘Oh?’ I looked over Dad’s shoulder and caught a glimpse of Mum at the window of what used to be my bedroom. She quickly moved behind the curtain when she realised that I’d seen her. Before she noticed me, she had been looking further up the street and I knew that she had been looking at where the green Fiesta had been parked.
‘She just can’t settle,’ Dad said. ‘She’s been like this for a week or more.’
Later, I lay in bed and listened to the rhythmic sound of Michelle’s breathing. It was a noise that I had come to love over the years and it had always brought me comfort. But that night it did nothing to calm me. From what I’d seen and what my dad had told me I realised my mother knew what I knew. And I no good could come of it. I doubted she felt the same.
It was a long time before I finally fell asleep but, when I did, I dreamt of green Fiestas, a familiar face, and my world crashing down around my ears.
‘Are you sure everything is all right?’ Michelle asked over the breakfast table the following morning. ‘You tossed and turned a lot last night.’
‘I’m sorry,’ I said without answering her question. ‘I didn’t mean to disturb you.’
She was going through the morning rituals and, as I watched her clearing plates and putting them in the sink, I toyed with the idea of telling her what I’d seen. But I asked myself what it was that I actually knew: I didn’t really know anything, not for sure.
All right, I did know something, I suppose, but nothing would be gained by telling her, not then anyway. I convinced myself there would be plenty of time for that. But the truth was that there might not be: I knew my brother and I knew that Robert would do whatever he thought was best for Robert. If that meant turning up on the doorstep without warning, he would think nothing of it. I’d have to prepare Michelle, and soon. I just didn’t know how.
For as long as I can remember my mother has done her grocery shopping on a Friday morning. The following Thursday afternoon I saw my boss and told him that I was going to need a couple of hours off the next day.
‘Everything OK, Tom?’ he asked. ‘Is your dad all right?’
I assured him that Dad was fine and thanked him for asking. I told him that there was just something that I needed to do. I’d developed a good relationship with him over the years and he knew I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important. He said to let him know if there was anything he could do.
Dad was surprised when I walked through the door the following morning about half nine. He’d been in the living room when I went through the door and shouted that it was only me. He appeared in the doorway and asked, ‘What are you doing here?’
‘Charming,’ I said, trying to sound light hearted. ‘Just thought I’d pop in for a brew.’
A few minutes later I carried two mugs of tea into the living room and placed one on the coffee table in front of my dad while I sat opposite cradling my own cup in my hands.
We sat in silence for a minute or two and then Dad asked, ‘What’s bothering you, son?’
I looked at him and didn’t know where to start. I took a sip of the tea just to give myself some thinking time. Dad watched me and waited and eventually I knew I was going to have to tell him what was on my mind.
‘Robert’s back.’ I spat the words out as quickly as I could.
He had been about to take a sip of his own drink and the mug had been halfway to his mouth when I spoke. It stayed there as what I said r
egistered and then he slowly lowered the mug and put it back on the table. He looked at me and asked, ‘What did you say?’
I put my mug down on the table too because my hands were shaking and I didn’t trust myself not to spill it. I looked at him for a second or two before I told him about what I’d seen.
‘I saw him across the road,’ I said.
Dad shuffled forward in his seat but didn’t say anything. He just cocked his head to one side and waited for me to explain.
‘I noticed someone sitting in a green car across the road the other day. I just assumed that someone had finally moved into number six and didn’t give it much thought then, but they were still there sitting in the car when I left.’ I could hear a tremor in my voice as I said, ‘When I drove past I looked across and they looked away, pretending to look at something on the passenger seat.’
‘And you think it was Robert?’ Dad sounded sceptical – or was it hopeful? It was hard to tell.
‘I’m sure it was Robert,’ I insisted.
‘But you said he turned away.’ I don’t think Dad wanted to believe it any more than I did.
‘Not far enough,’ I said. Now that the words were out I relaxed and I took a huge mouthful of tea, enjoying the sensation of swallowing it even though it was still way too hot.
‘It’s been sixteen years,’ he said. ‘Are you sure?’
‘Positive.’ As I spoke, I noticed his face losing colour.
He put his hand on top of his head and pushed the little hair he had left as far back as it would go. ‘Oh my God,’ he said slowly.
‘I think Mum knows,’ I told him and, once he’d digested that, he started to nod his head again. His face changed as disbelief was replaced by acceptance and I could almost see the pieces falling into place.
We sat in silence together, united in the knowledge that the lives we had lived for over a decade and a half were about to change. And I’m sure that Dad knew as well as I did that it was unlikely that the change would be for the better.
I leaned forward looking at the floor between my feet and Dad lay back, resting his head on the back of the chair. His head was turned to the window like he was looking through it but I’m not sure he was.
I don’t know how it happened but we sat there much longer than I had planned. The next thing I knew Mum was doing what I had done, and the front door closed seconds after we heard her shout, ‘It’s only me.’
Dad turned his head and looked towards the door, waiting for her to appear. ‘Are you in here, Bob?’ She popped her head into the room and was obviously surprised to me. ‘What are you doing here, Tom?’ she asked. ‘What’s wrong?’
‘Why would anything be wrong?’
She looked uncomfortable as I locked eyes with her.
‘There’s nothing wrong with Michelle and the boys is there?’
‘No,’ I said slowly without taking my eyes off her. ‘They’re fine.’
A look of panic spread quickly over her face and that was all the confirmation that we needed. She almost fell into a chair. Dad and I looked at her but she was looking off to the side.
‘How long have you known love?’ Dad asked tenderly.
‘Known what?’ She tried to sound as though she had no idea what we were talking about, but she fooled no one.
‘That he’s back,’ Dad prompted.
‘Back?’ she said. ‘Who’s back? Back from where?’ Her voice was high pitched and a bit squeaky, a sure sign that she knew exactly what Dad was talking about.
‘Him!’ I said the word like an obscenity.
‘Him who?’
I couldn’t help feeling that the way she was trying to keep up the pretence was pathetic.
Dad put a stop to it, telling her, ‘Tom’s seen him too.’
She dropped her eyes for a second or two and when she lifted them up I thought there was something like joy in her eyes. She looked at me and asked, ‘Are you sure it’s him?’
‘Aren’t you?’
She sucked a deep breath in and couldn’t help a small smile forming across her lips. ‘I’d know him anywhere,’ she said.
As I buried my head in my hands I heard Dad ask, ‘When did he come back?’
She didn’t speak straight away and I raised my head to see what she was doing. It seemed to me as though she was collecting her thoughts because her eyes were flicking around. It was like she was trying to put things in some sort of order. She spoke slowly.
‘About three weeks ago. I was coming home from the doctors when I saw him in the park standing on the stone bridge. Then a few days later I saw a green car up the street and he was sitting in it. I’ve seen him there a few more times since then.’
‘Have you spoken to him?’ Dad asked the question before I could,
‘No,’ she said quickly and this time I thought she was telling the truth.
Then Dad asked, ‘Has he been to this house?’ which was the other question I’d wanted to ask.
‘No,’ she said ‘I thought he would, but so far he hasn’t.’ I wanted to believe she wasn’t lying that time too.
‘What does he want?’ Dad was just thinking out loud but I answered him anyway.
‘He wants whatever is best for him,’ I said. I felt Mum looking at me and when I looked at her I saw pain in her eyes but I didn’t care. ‘Oh, come on, Mum.’ I said harshly. ‘Let’s not pretend there’d be any other reason.’
‘Maybe he’s sorry,’ she said pitifully.
‘It’s too late for sorry,’ I said as I pushed myself out of the chair, ‘nearly seventeen years too late.’
‘Where are you going?’ She stretched her hand out but I pulled my arm out of her reach.
‘Work,’ I said and after a nod towards my dad I left the house as quickly as I could.
I sat in the car and looked at the space where the green car had been parked. I didn’t need to look to know that I was being watched through a window. I started the car and drove away slowly.
When I got to work, Derek, my boss, showed some concern and asked again if I was all right. I told him I was but I don’t think he believed me and he left me alone for the rest of the day. I spent the afternoon going through the motions, and by the time I left I had achieved absolutely nothing of any consequence.
I drove the long way home and tried to get my thoughts into some sort of order, but failed miserably. I went into the house with the intention of appearing as normal as possible. The boys were watching TV in the living room and I asked where their mother was. Michael said that she was upstairs.
When I walked into the bedroom Michelle was getting changed into clothes she could relax in. She had returned to nursing about six or seven years earlier and worked on the surgical ward at the General Hospital. She had finished her shift at about four and would have picked the younger boys up from her mother’s on her way home.
I smiled at her and set about getting changed myself, happy to be taking off the shirt and tie that I had worn all day.
‘Your mum rang,’ she said as she slipped out of her dress.
‘When?’ I know I was sharp because Michelle moved her head back as if she’d been slapped.
‘About ten minutes ago,’ she said, taken aback. ‘I hadn’t long got back from Mum’s.’
I took a deep breath and asked, ‘What did she want?’
Michelle put the uniform dress on a hanger and told me, ‘She just asked if you were home yet.’
‘Why?’ I tried to make it sound like I wasn’t really interested.
‘She didn’t say,’ Michelle pulled a T-shirt over her head as she spoke. When her head popped out of the top she smiled at me.
I smiled back at her. No matter what was going on, Michelle’s smile could always make me feel better. I loved her more than I’d ever thought it was possible to love anyone and knew that I would do whatever I had to do to keep her.
I had the exact same thought again later on looking at the boys as we sat round the table sharing a meal and talking. This was the
family time that I treasured the most. I knew that Robert wouldn’t be interested in Anthony or Michael so they were safe from his clutches, but what about Simon? Would he be interested in Simon? Did he even know that Simon existed? Did he know that Michelle and I were married? Would he even care about that?
I asked myself what Robert would do but it was a question I couldn’t answer. I’ve told you already that we had once been close, but even back then I wouldn’t have liked to say with any certainty that I ever knew what Robert was thinking. And if I hadn’t known then, what chance did I have now?
There were so many questions running through my head and I knew that there was only one person that could answer them. I just had to find him first.
ROBERT
I reversed the route that I had taken all those years before and was back in my home town less than two hours later. I’d spent the journey thinking about what I would do when I arrived but by the time I got there I was still no further forward.
The car was on autopilot really and, without realising that I’d been heading there, I found myself outside the garage that I had once worked in. Or at least I thought I was outside it: the school was still there at the end of the street, and the church was in front of me, but when I got out of the car and looked there was an estate agent’s where the forecourt used to be and a solicitor’s where the workshop once stood. I even checked the street sign to make sure I hadn’t lost my bearings, and that confirmed that I was where I should be. It was the garage that wasn’t.
As I drove along the street my primary school had been on, I found it was gone too, replaced by a series of the little boxes that laughingly passed for houses these days: new- builds with small rooms, tiny gardens and huge price tags.
That was the point that I really started to understand how much had changed in the years since I’d been gone, and as I drove past what had been my home, my heart sank. I searched for Dad’s car and it wasn’t there. I kicked myself for thinking it should have been; how could I be so stupid? The car had been about eight years old when I left, so of course it wouldn’t be there. But shouldn’t there be a car of some description? I couldn’t imagine Dad not driving and surely his car would be there because it was about seven o’clock and way past the time he’d be home from work.
Not My Brother's Keeper Page 13
