by Claire Davis
Cal tried. “I have to, Troy. I can never make it right, but I have to do what I can. He died. He died.” The crying came from nowhere, but once begun, the tide crashed from him in tremendous painful waves, until eventually all was quiet, and he fell asleep, exhausted, in Troy’s arms.
****
The next morning, Cal waited until Troy was in the hostel reception, then marched in and took his hand. Whistles went up around them as he put an arm around Troy’s shoulders, and kissed him. “Have you met my boyfriend?” he asked Tom, who was on reception.
****
Chapter Seventeen
Troy had begged to come to Probation to wait for him until it was over, but he was due in court himself at twelve.
“No, you stay here, I’ll be okay. No need for you to go there when you don’t have to. Good luck in court, and I’ll meet you back at the flat, and we can celebrate, yes?”
Troy understood, like he so often did. “Just get through it, yeah? It’s gonna be hard, but you can do it. Okay, I’ll stay here, but tonight I’m gonna cook for us. After I finish in court, I’m coming back and starting a special dinner, just for us. “
“Okay, it’s a date,” and Cal left, blowing a kiss as he shut the door, then began the walk into town.
All the way there, he heard Jay’s voice and tried to hold it off by concentrating on the trees that were here long before him. He had to look at her and listen and think about what she said. He knew nothing he could say in return would ever be enough.
He had to face her.
The reception looked just the same as ever. A few people waited, some moaning about bus passes and not being able to be seen early, and somehow this normalcy calmed him. He was sweating, nauseous lines dripping down his back, very aware of his breathing, but things went on as ever around him.
He wanted to just get to it— to her shouting and her rage, and this was all he thought about after every one of her twenty letters. She must be angry.
He tried to sit but couldn’t stop his foot from tapping incessantly, so he paced. If he ran away now it would be despicable. Jay never ran away from anything.
“Cal?” Mary appeared at the entrance, beckoning him through, like a starting pistol for his thudding heart. He couldn’t look at her because he had to concentrate on walking.
The hand on his arm surprised him and nearly made him crack. He couldn’t take kindness now.
****
Nothing in his life would ever matter as much as this.
He didn’t think he would be able to look at her, but old habits die hard and there she was, waiting for him and smiling. Even after everything she looked like Anna, whom he loved like a sister. Mary was there, in the middle of the silence, straight to business, reminding them of what they agreed and why they were there.
Anna smelt nice, the same perfume she always wore. Sometimes he had smelt it on Jay when they fucked. Twins, they were twins. Thoughts run into each other, mingling like blood and water.
“When did it start between you and Jay?”
Her voice, he had forgotten. He had practised this answer a million times, but now he can’t remember. “I loved him, Anna, from when I was a little boy. I didn’t know what it was and I knew I had to keep shut about it and it was wrong. I thought about him all the time, when I cleaned my teeth and at school. I picked subjects I knew he would like, I ate foods he would choose.”
“I don’t think this is what Anna means, Cal,” Mary interjects softly.
He couldn’t think, but Anna leans forward and holds his gaze. “It is, Mary, this is just what I want to hear. Please Cal, tell me?”
He could never fit everything he felt about Jay in this little room, or even in a planet, but he tries. “When Mum died. She was all I had. We were very close, but I never told her how I felt about Jay. But maybe she knew because he was all I talked about.” He was talking too fast because now there was too much to say.
****
Mum’s Funeral…
Everyone is looking at him in that suit that is too tight and the new squeaky shoes. Alice has hold of one hand but all he wants is for Jay to hold the other. He should be thinking about Mum but he wants Jay to hold him so badly that he leans into him. He can see one of Jay’s hands, and before he can stop, he holds it, and all he can do is feel that hand.
The tears start rolling down his face and everyone thinks it’s for his poor mum, but it’s because he wants Jay so badly it hurts.
****
“It was after that. A few weeks, maybe? We took a tent to some fields, and that’s when it happened the first time, the sex. But the loving, that started for me the day I was born. I didn’t just want sex, but it was all I could have, so I took it. He came round maybe once a month and we had sex. There was no loving and mostly it didn’t happen in a bed. I don’t know why he did it or what he got out of it, but for me it was everything.”
Stripped bare, his dirty secret and drab reasons for killing a man. He waited for the anger and shouting, but she looked so sad that it was him who cried, pathetic little sobs like the filthy whore he was.
Anna shook her head at Mary. “I know we agreed on three more questions, but he’s already answered them all. Can I sit next to him?”
It was a blur, but somehow she was holding his hand first, then they were hugging and crying together. This would be the hardest thing he ever did, but also the best. She stroked his hair and clutched at him. “Why didn’t you tell me? You let him treat you like that, fucking about with both our lives, treating us all like shit, telling lies and him being unhappy. I wouldn’t have cared what you did together. Why did you think I cared?”
“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” he gasped out. “It was my fault, that day. If I hadn’t…”
“It wasn’t your fault that he drove his car shitfaced, Cal. It was your fault that you drove yours too fast, but no one ever made Jay do anything. You know that. It was terrible, Cal, for all of us, but it’s over now. I want it to end. The kids lost their dad long ago, then two uncles that day, and that can be put right. I want you to come back, Cal. You don’t have to hide away, I told you that.”
And she did, in all those letters, but he couldn’t believe them until now. “I miss you, and the kids. I’d love to still see them.”
****
As he left the Probation offices, he felt both old and sparklingly brand new. The smile ripped from his face, and he belonged with all these people after all. He was to visit Anna and the kids next week and see how it went. They needed Uncle Cal.
“Troy? I’m back,” he shouted as he entered the flat, but it was empty and cold. Didn’t look like anyone had been here for hours. Sometimes courts took ages, though, there could be long delays and even adjournments so there was no need to worry just yet.
In the kitchen, the ingredients were laid out just as Troy had left them in readiness for the cooking. Cal went to sleep, completely exhausted from the day, hugging Troy’s T-shirt.
By the time it got dark, he knew something was wrong, and went to make a cup of tea to help him think.
The note was attached to the kettle:
Dear Cal,
I know it’s prison for me but I didn’t want to ruin your meeting. Did it go all right? Make the dinner for me, and please come and visit.
I love you,
Paul
****
Chapter Eighteen
The kitchen table was just the same. How many times had he sat there with Jay and the kids? There were the knife marks where Jay had cut cards for the kids, and white spots of Tipp-Ex from years ago. Anna had hugged him so hard as she let him in that he saw all his fears were futile— she really did want to see him.
“What do the kids know?” he asked, prepared for the worst.
“The truth, Cal. That Jay and you drove too fast, and he lost control of the car. You were both stupid. He died, and you went to prison.”
“I thought about them all the time. All of you, Alice, too.”
Ann
a nodded, and took his hand. “I know you did. I knew you’d blame yourself for everything, but the truth is he was always driving pissed, drugs too. I used to hide his keys, but,” she shrugged sadly, “you know what he was like.”
“Yeah,” he managed, then they were both smiling through the tears.
“Cal? Remember when he made that Tardis?” She gasped, and suddenly they were laughing so hard it hurt.
“Yeah, and made us sleep in it for a week.”
“Fucking idiot.”
“I miss him, Anna.” He has to stop.
“Me too,” she sobbed, grabbing him. “He was a cold-hearted bastard though, the things that came to light after he died shocked me.”
They hugged for ages, reliving the many memories, looking at photos of them all from when they were children. “What I don’t get, though, is why? Why he kept you a secret. Mum would have been shocked, but she’d have got over it.” She shook her head at him, and there was the question he would never know the answer to.
He tried to explain it as he had seen it back then. “I just knew that it wasn’t important to him. It was more about him owning me, than ever really wanting me.”
“But that’s horrible, Cal. How did you live like that?”
He thought for a moment, images of Jay fucking in that hallway flushing his cheeks. “I shut it all out,” he whispered. “It hurt me. It took over. I would wonder— what would it be like to hold his hand, or to wake up with him? It broke me, but he was part of me.”
She nodded. “You were always together as kids, and then you moved in with us. He bullied you right from being little children. He always had to be the boss with everything. But what about all those girlfriends he had?”
He shook his head wearily, thinking of Tony and all the people Jay owned— fucking them in the garage for their initiation. “I don’t know what he wanted, Anna, but it wasn’t me.”
It had never been him.
“I tried to see you, when you were in hospital, but they wouldn’t let me. I was angry about it all, but mostly I just wanted to know what happened. How he was— at the end— I knew something was eating away at him, but I didn’t know what it was. I guess we’ll never know now.” She shrugged, and he nodded.
“There’s a lot we’ll never know.”
“All those people he had working for him. I didn’t let him bring them here at the end because he was always so angry it frightened the kids. He wouldn’t talk to me,” Anna finished sadly.
“Or me.”
“So who’s this guy? Troy, wasn’t it?” She smiled at him, and he told her about him— the goofy grin, how he left clothes everywhere and wrote Cal misspelt messages in toothpaste on the bathroom mirror.
Tears streamed down his cheeks as it poured out. “Troy, yeah, but it’s Paul really. He told me his name was Troy to be cool, but he’s perfect just as he is. He wants to train as a chef, and I’m going to see he does it. It’s going to be a different world for him, Anna. No more courts and dingy hostels. No more having to fuck men to keep his brother happy. I’m going to help him, and love him, when he gets out.”
“He sounds wonderful, Cal. Just what you need. Don’t you let him go because of some half-baked idea of owing Jay. We miss you and we want you back here in your own house, where you belong. We want you back in the café and back in your life, Cal. Don’t give me that rubbish about handing the café to me because there is no way on this earth that’s ever going to happen. Troy wants to be a cook? This is your chance, Cal. I’m sure he’d like it here— a new town away from whatever happened to him. I bet the kids will love him too, just like you obviously do.”
He could do nothing to fill the silence that her missile left, feeling the ugliness descend once more, as he hid his head in the shaking hands.
“Cal,” she whispered. “We have to live, now. We can’t change what happened and we can’t live for him, you have to live for yourself now. For you. That’s the best we can do for him. What happened, it’s enough, Cal. Enough.”
He couldn’t quite manage a nod, but he heard and felt every word. Some of the weight in his heart lifted, and perhaps it would be enough.
****
He took a last look around the house, even though it was immaculate, and tried to calm down. Anna had helped him redecorate— choosing colours, laying carpets, creating the smells and colours of life and a new start. The kids had dug the garden, planting bulbs and hanging baskets, choosing a swing and making themselves at home.
His kitchen smelt of fresh baking and he just could not wait to get started on the cooking training. He had a feeling his table was about to be used for more than just chopping, and that this would be the last time his old house was ever tidy or silent.
It had taken him three long, lonely months to finish, and now there was only one last, but very vital, thing missing. Paul.
He did not know how he would get through the journey to the prison, or if the smile might crack his face, but somehow he arrived, parked, and tried to keep breathing.
****
The sun was over the stone prison as Cal waited with the other families, trying to stand still, but too excited to contain it. Every week for the last three months, Cal had stood in queues, been searched, turned up at these same doors to visit, but this would be the last time.
It was a beautiful warm day, the birds were singing and if he had to wait much longer he was sure he would burst. In the distance, the doors opened, and men carrying black bags began to appear.
Every muscle of Cal’s neck strained. His fists hurt where he clenched them so tightly with the ache and the wanting. All around him, people were running and hugging, but still he could not see him.
Cold sweat began dripping down his back as he wracked his brain, going over every detail— had he got the right day?
Then, the last man stepped through the doors, and Cal could wait no longer. He ran right through the families and the children, pushed past the visitors, and towards Paul, who was jumping up and down, waving and beaming. They crashed together, the black bag was flung aside, and all that mattered was this.
“Let’s go home,” Cal managed.
The End
Author Bio
Claire Davis and Al Stewart are best friends and writing partners.
They like to challenge themselves by exploring the darker side of life and by finding compassion and beauty even in the most desolate of places.
Al sometimes describes himself as a mixture of Darth Vader and the tooth fairy, while Claire is less grounded.
Al has led an unconventional life and experienced many of the events he writes about. Above all, they believe in the power of magic and good manners.
Contact & Media Info
Claire’s Goodreads | Al’s Goodreads
