by Phil Earle
I looked at Lizzie and smiled, before grabbing her under her arms and swinging her into a bear hug. Her breathing was short and sharp, the tears starting to interrupt the rise and fall of her chest.
‘We both want you to come with us, Billy,’ she cried. ‘I don’t understand why you’re staying here. Don’t you want to come?’
‘It’s not about what I want, matey,’ I said gently. ‘We’ve talked about this, haven’t we? It’s about getting you settled. I’d be leaving home in a couple of years anyway. It wouldn’t be fair on Annie to make her move to a bigger house, only for me to then move out, would it?’
‘You will be there next week, though, won’t you?’ she asked.
‘Wouldn’t miss it,’ I replied, before forcing a grin on to my face. ‘Especially as Ronnie’s paying.’
She giggled loudly as she pressed into me for one last cuddle.
‘Annie will sit outside the bathroom while I’m in there, won’t she, Bill?’ she whispered, embarrassed that Ronnie might hear.
‘You won’t need her to, mate, honest you won’t. But all you have to do is ask her,’ I replied, setting her down on the ground before my back broke.
All that left was Louie, growing paler by the second. I beckoned him over as I perched on the porch step. He sat sadly on my knee and let his head fall on to my chest.
‘I’m not going,’ he said firmly, and as he said it, I heard Ronnie take a step closer. I had to jump in quickly before he did it for me.
‘Come on, mate. That doesn’t make sense, does it? This is what we’ve talked about for years. A proper home, away from here. In fact, this is better than what we dreamed about. You’re going to be with your mum!’
‘How can it be better, Billy, if you’re not there?’ he asked. ‘That wasn’t what we talked about.’
‘But it doesn’t change anything, Lou. It’s just geography. So what if I’m not sleeping there? All you have to do is pick up the phone and I’ll be there, you know that.’
‘But I haven’t got a phone, have I?’ he cried seriously.
‘No, you muppet. But Annie does. You just use hers.’
‘Don’t make me go, Bill. I don’t want to.’
‘That’s not true, though, is it? You’re just feeling like this because you’re leaving. In an hour or two you’ll feel different.’
‘But if I don’t, will you come and get me?’
I looked him squarely in the face. ‘If you need me, really need me, and if Annie can’t make whatever it is better, all you have to do is call me. I won’t turn my phone off, I promise.’
That seemed to be enough and he pushed himself into me, filling my chest, my entire body, with warmth. I tried to store it up, wring every last ounce of emotion out of it that I could, scared shitless that it would be a long time until I felt anything like it again.
Before I knew it, Lizzie was there too, burrowing her way into me, which pushed the tears from my throat into my mouth. As much as I wanted them to stay, I knew I could only hold the tears in so long. And all I could do was think to myself, Please don’t cry. Please don’t cry.
The tears were pricking my eyes when I heard the Colonel come to my rescue.
‘Come on now, you two. Let your brother breathe. It really is time to go.’
With that I felt them slide away from me, and with every step they took, I felt something rip wider and wider apart, the feeling so intense that it took everything I had to stop shouting out in pain.
By the time they walked slowly up the path I could barely think straight. My hand was waving automatically, but everything else was just focused on keeping it all together.
It was only when the gate slammed shut and they disappeared from sight that the tears really came. And it was then that I turned to Ronnie and without thinking, and without worrying or caring, wrapped my arms around him and allowed him to hold me up.
CHAPTER 27
The mug of tea sat stewing in my hand. It had been piping-hot twenty minutes before, threatening to warm up my shivering body, but now it was just lukewarm and half-empty.
Ronnie perched on the bench next to me, draining the dregs of his cup, before sighing loudly.
‘How’s that going down?’
‘It’s not, really.’
‘I know what you mean. I’d rather it was a pint,’ he said, staring off into the distance.
‘Tell me about it.’
He laughed quickly through his nose. ‘Eighteenth birthday, Billy. There’s a table in the local, right in front of the fire, reserved for me and you.’
I didn’t think I could wait three years for a single pint. Waiting a couple of hours to down a bottle of … well, whatever I could find seemed like a stretch at the moment.
‘How are you feeling? You look cold.’
I didn’t know how to answer, as I didn’t feel anything. Except numb.
I had no idea how long had passed since the gate had slammed closed, only that my eyes were sore, that my mind was tired and that I had no tears left.
‘I’m sorry,’ I said, without looking up.
‘What are you sorry for?’
‘You know, for breaking up like that. I didn’t mean for you to have to deal with it.’
‘Don’t be ridiculous.’ He sighed, bumping his shoulder with mine. ‘That’s what it’s all about. I’d have been more worried if you hadn’t drenched me, to be honest. And I’d rather you cried than try to lay me out.’
A snort of laughter came out of my nose, but I sniffed it straight back, guilty that I could find anything to smile about.
‘It’ll get easier, you know.’
‘What will?’
‘Them not being here. It won’t feel easy for a while, but I promise you, Bill, it will get easier in time.’
I exhaled slowly, not knowing what to say. I wanted to believe him, trust that what he said was true, but I just couldn’t see it.
‘It doesn’t matter.’ I sighed. ‘Don’t worry about it. I’m sure it won’t be your problem for long anyway.’
Ronnie shifted his weight forward on the bench as the words reached him.
‘What do you mean? Of course it’s my problem. You’ve been my problem all this time. Why should anything change now?’
‘Because I won’t be here long, will I?’
‘What gave you that impression? This is your home, Billy. Just because the twins have gone, that won’t change.’
I sighed again and rubbed at my stinging eyes, all emotion drained from my voice.
‘And what about what they said at my review? About me getting too big for this place. About moving me on to that therapeutic unit or whatever they called it.’
‘Billy, they talked about that place because they were worried about you. Worried that you were going to end up hurting someone, or, more importantly, hurting yourself. But I’ve seen you, Bill, I’ve seen you change so much over the last few months, and I’m not talking about turning up at school, or any of that rubbish. I’m talking about how you were with the twins, with the other kids here. With Daisy. With me.’
‘I haven’t changed. I was just acting. Putting it on so you’d let them stay with me.’
‘I don’t believe you. I know you’ve been trying, that’s been obvious to everyone here. But don’t you sit there and tell me that you haven’t felt different lately. That it hasn’t felt like an improvement to how things were. Because that’s rubbish, Billy, and you know it.’
I sat and looked him in the eye, amazed. Amazed that he’d called me a liar to start with, but even more amazed that he had this opinion of me. That he’d been watching me to that extent.
‘What does it matter anyway?’ I bluffed. ‘Whatever I’ve thought these last few months, none of that means anything any more, does it? The twins have gone. Annie’s got her own way. Who gives a shit what happens to me now?’
‘Well, I do, Billy,’ he ye
lled, rising from the bench. ‘Don’t you realize that? I’ve been here for you ever since you arrived, my friend. Now, that may mean nothing to you, but it means a lot to me. So don’t expect me to stick around and watch you mess everything up.’
‘Do what the rest of the scummers do, then. If you don’t like it, if we’re too much for you to handle, then fuck off and do something else.’
I paused as I watched him sit back down, his air of invincibility punctured.
‘Oh aye, and what else would I do?’
‘I don’t know. Go back to the army? I don’t care.’
‘I’m too old for that.’ He chuckled, although it wasn’t a laugh filled with joy. ‘I’m too old and too stuck in my ways for much, to be honest.’ He looked me in the eye. ‘I did think about leaving once. Was on the verge of handing in my notice, had the letter written and everything. Scared me rigid, it did. I had no idea what I was going to do or what I had to offer. When you’ve been here as long as I have, you wonder if you could ever fit in anywhere else.’
The recognition of what he said took the wind clean out of me.
‘So what happened?’ I asked.
‘What do you mean?’
‘Why did you change your mind?’
‘We had a phone call, didn’t we? Late at night. I was going to hand in my letter the next morning as my shift ended. But the phone call made me change my mind.’
‘Why? What was it about?’
‘It was about you, Bill. Your placement with Jan and Grant had broken down and you were coming back. I couldn’t exactly quit then, could I?’
He pushed his arm around me and rested his hand on my shoulder.
‘I’m glad I didn’t as well. Despite the chunks you’ve taken out of me over the years. Because no matter what you think of me, or of yourself, I know it was worth it.’
I was speechless. I mean, what do you say to that?
Nothing.
Except fight back the new wave of tears that had gathered inside.
We spent the afternoon mooching about. Ronnie tried to get me in the gym, but I wasn’t interested. So instead we went wandering. Nowhere in particular, just walking. It wasn’t as if we spent the whole time talking either. My brain was too busy trying to take in what he had told me, about leaving, about staying, about what he thought of me.
As hard as I tried, I couldn’t make sense of it. It just didn’t add up, that he’d stay because of me. Why would he do that? Why would he do that for me?
My head kept fixing on what he’d said, about not being able to move on, not being able to fit in anywhere else. It shocked me, I suppose, that this bloke, who always looked in such control, could possibly feel the same way I felt.
Part of me reckoned he was spinning a line to make me feel better, but part of me didn’t. There was an honesty to what he’d said and the way he’d said it. A sadness, I suppose, a recognition that he was stuck, going nowhere.
As we approached home, I felt my body sag, the emotion of the day and the constant whirring of my head finally taking its toll. It was only eight o’clock, but I was done. I wanted nothing but bed and my faded stars.
‘Why don’t you head off, Ronnie?’ I said to him as we traipsed through the front door. ‘Seriously, I’m just going to crash. You don’t need to stay, honest.’
‘I know I don’t need to stay, but I’m going to anyway. And before you say anything, I know you don’t need babysitting, so get yourself upstairs and in bed before I try to read you a story.’
I spent the next couple of hours drifting in and out of sleep, dozing and dreaming, being visited by everyone and anyone: the twins, Ronnie, Annie, social workers of Christmas past, they came and went, telling me to relax, that everything was going to be fine. And I was cool with that, until Shaun started whispering the same words into my ear: It’s OK, it’s OK, Daddy’s here …
With that, I was bolt upright, the green glow of my phone cutting through the darkness.
‘1 new message’ it read, and for a second I dared not open it, something in my head telling me it was going to be Shaun whispering more sweet nothings to me.
Shaking my head to dislodge the idea, I picked up the phone, hoping it would be from the twins, though I couldn’t work out what I wanted it to say.
As the message opened I was left looking at Daisy’s name and a text that offered hope for tomorrow:
hpe u r ok. Bin thnkng bout u. minesweepng 2mrow?
I flopped back on to the bed, my fingers tapping out the briefest reply:
Perfect
I let the phone fall on to my chest and breathed deeply, hoping that Daisy might offer some answers to the questions in my cluttered head.
All I had to do now was sit, count and wait for the morning.
CHAPTER 28
There’s nothing worse than waking up with a hangover. Especially when you haven’t even been drinking. I was up predictably early, well before the rest of the house, so I dragged my duvet down to the TV room and sat in front of the box.
I’d searched at first for the copy of The Princess Bride that Daisy had lent us, but I couldn’t find it anywhere. One of the lifers must have snaffled it, so I made a mental note to hurt someone over it later and settled instead for some channel-hopping. Of course nothing was hitting the spot. The kids’ programmes niggled at my pounding head and the music channels were pumping out nothing but pop, so I settled for the replay of yesterday’s football.
It did the job, I suppose, gave me something to at least try and concentrate on. But it didn’t matter how many screamers flew in, or how many times someone dived, nothing lifted my mood for even a second.
Perhaps it was the tiredness and the build-up of sleepless weeks that was doing it, but I couldn’t quieten what was going on in my head.
I was gutted, angry and confused. I didn’t know who to believe or what the future meant, and all that my mind could do was spin around on one gigantic loop, throwing each question up in turn. As the questions repeated, they got louder, and faster, until I honestly thought the top of my head was going to come off. So after chucking on some clothes and grabbing my phone, I headed out, being careful not to wake Ronnie or the other scummers as I left.
I started in the gym, wondering if half an hour on the heavy bag might kick-start my day and quieten my mind, but as hard as I tried, I just couldn’t build any enthusiasm for it, and to be honest I didn’t fancy inviting Shaun into my pounding head.
I stuck around in the garage for a while, though, tidying the equipment and sweeping the floor, doing anything that might settle me down, but nothing seemed to work. So I took to the streets and headed for the bench, knowing it wouldn’t be long until Daisy surfaced.
On the way, I stopped at Jan and Grant’s, and my heart raced as I saw the car missing from the drive. I couldn’t think of a reason for them being out so early on a Sunday and my mood lifted at the chance of them being away for the bank holiday. I toyed with the idea of taking a closer look, but the street was starting to wake up, and with the first of the Sunday morning car-washers appearing in the driveways, I decided against it and wandered on, knowing I’d be back later.
It felt good to be perched on the bench, a relief more than anything to be out of home, and it didn’t take Daisy long to reply to the text I’d bashed out when I arrived.
Within half an hour, she was ambling towards me, fag in hand as per usual, but more importantly in a decent mood. In fact, she greeted me with a hug, which I didn’t quite know what to do with, so I just hung on for as long as she did, putting my arms in the same place as hers.
‘So,’ she said, sighing, ‘how did it go?’
I exhaled loudly, not knowing what to say.
‘That well, eh?’
‘Oh, mate, I don’t know where to start. It was the hardest thing I’ve ever done. I had to stand there and practically talk them into going with her. Louie was petrified. They must h
ave thought I wanted rid of them or something.’
‘Don’t be ridiculous. They know how you feel. And anyway, what else could you do? Whether you talked them into it or not, they were leaving. What was the alternative? Ronnie carrying them to the car kicking and screaming?’
‘Doesn’t make it any easier, though, you know? My head feels mashed. I haven’t got a clue what’s going to happen now.’
I spent the next fifteen minutes talking about the previous day, and Daisy sat quietly, listening and smoking.
‘What did I tell you about that Ronnie?’ she said, jabbing me in the ribs with her lighter. ‘I told you he was a dark horse, didn’t I? You’ve sat there, night after night, slagging him off, and it turns out you’re the reason he stayed. You’ve got to listen to that, Bill. That guy cares for you and that has to mean something, doesn’t it?’
‘The thing that surprised me most, though, was the stuff he said about not being able to fit in anywhere else. I didn’t have a clue that he could feel like that. I mean, he’s the Colonel!’
‘Doesn’t mean he can’t feel things, does it? You haven’t got the monopoly on feeling screwed up, you know?’
‘I know that,’ I huffed, ‘but as soon as he said it, I wanted to shout, That’s how I felt!’
‘What do you mean?’
‘You know, when the whole adoption thing broke down. No matter how hard I tried to blame everyone else, the truth was, it was my fault. I just couldn’t fit in. It was just, I don’t know, too different.’
‘In what way?’
‘All I can remember, for the whole of my life, is living with loads of kids. At Oldfield, there’s always been, like, ten of us. So when I arrived in the new house and there was just me and two adults, I don’t know, I just couldn’t get my head around it.’
‘Did you tell them how you felt?’
‘I couldn’t, could I? They would have thought I was mental. And the truth was, they were doing their best. Everything they bought me was brand new. I had new clothes, a new computer, everything was mint out of the box, but I didn’t know what to do with it all. It isn’t what happens to kids like us, you know? We’re used to hand-me-downs and second best.’
