Dark Corners

by Darren O’Sullivan

  He didn’t say dementia. He didn’t need to. My father’s father had it in the last few years of his life.

  ‘There could be one of a hundred things that could cause your symptoms. Let’s not get too disheartened, let’s do the tests and then go from there. All right?’

  ‘Yes, all right. Thank you, doctor,’ Dad said, getting to his feet and shaking Baz’s hand. He opened the door and showed Dad out. ‘Just down the corridor is the nurse’s office. Go and sit down there, I’ll ring across now and they will call you in. Is that OK, Mr Chambers?’

  Dad nodded. ‘Thank you, doctor.’

  ‘Not at all. Neve, have you got a second?’ he asked, as I began to follow Dad.

  ‘Sure. Dad, I’ll be quick, do you want me to come in with you?’

  ‘No, it’s just a blood test.’

  ‘OK, well, I’ll be at reception when you’re done.’

  He nodded at me, and I couldn’t help but feel he looked lost as he walked down the corridor that led to the nurse’s room; so alone. I watched him until the door was closed again.

  ‘Hi, Neve.’

  ‘Hi. So, you’re a doctor, and I should know that because we talked about it last night. Sorry,’ I said, embarrassed.

  ‘Don’t be, I would have had a few drinks too if I found what you found. How are you holding up, you know, being back here?’

  ‘Weird.’

  ‘I bet. Listen, I know you might not want to hear this, but, until we’ve established what’s going on with your dad, he will need someone nearby. I’m not saying you have to be a full-time carer or anything like that, but he’s alone, and he needs someone to keep an eye on him. Make sure he doesn’t get into any trouble. Keep his spirits up.’

  ‘Yes, yes of course. So, what do you think is wrong?’

  ‘It’s hard to say categorically,’ he replied, pulling on his earlobe, unable to hold my eye. He almost looked apologetic at what he wasn’t telling me.

  ‘I see.’

  ‘Are you OK?’

  ‘Yes, sorry, yes, I’m fine. I should go, see he’s all right with the nurse, then get him home.’

  ‘OK, and Neve – has Holly messaged yet, about meeting?’ I nodded. ‘So, I’ll see you there?’ he asked, his eyes firing an intensity into me.

  ‘I’ll be there. See you later.’

  I opened the door to leave, but turned back as I was about to step out. ‘Baz, Jamie’s top, do you think…’ I couldn’t finish my sentence. ‘Nothing, it doesn’t matter.’

  ‘Yes, Neve, I do,’ he said emphatically. ‘Do you?’

  ‘I wished I didn’t, but how can I not?’

  ‘Let’s talk about it later?’

  ‘OK.’

  The door to the office closed and composing myself, I waited for Dad to return.

  ‘Everything all right?’ he asked once he rounded the corner and could see me.

  ‘Yes, just catching up,’ I lied. ‘I’ve not seen Baz in years. Shall we go home? Have a bit of cake or something.’

  If anything, there were more people, talking, waiting, milling about, as we made our way home. We crossed the road, heading for Dad’s, and on the other side a man who was approaching from the opposite direction, stopped. His eye on us. His sudden halt rippled through me, and I stopped too, just for a beat, before forcing my step back in unison with Dad’s. I didn’t know who he was, but it seemed he knew me. Two words shot into my mind: the Drifter. But it couldn’t be him, could it? Before I could turn away or lower my head, he whipped out a camera and took a photo and I knew he was a journalist, trying to make a story. I wanted to challenge him on it, tell him to delete it, but my words were caught. Besides, Dad hadn’t noticed, and I didn’t want to upset him or cause him alarm. The man opposite smiled at me, an unkind smile. I kept my head down for the rest of the walk.

  Opening the front door to Dad’s, I went straight to flick the kettle on as he sank into his chair. He looked fragile, vulnerable, and despite being desperate to get out of this place, I knew I couldn’t leave him. He needed someone to keep an eye on him, make sure he was safe, and as I thought about it, I realised what else would I be doing that could be more important? My dad needed me, and despite our challenges, I loved him with all my heart.

  I was here, I was needed. Baz said Dad needed me, not anyone else, me.

  I was stuck in the village.

  Chapter 22

  July 1998

  Two weeks before…

  It was too risky to go to the hut in the day. Despite the village not caring about what they did or where they went, if it was discovered the group of seven were getting drunk in the security hut that led to the mine, their mine, there would surely be outrage, adults saying and doing things to make their lives hell. But with the village being so small the number of other places they could go was limited. The park was too close to Chloe’s home, within earshot of her mother who would yell at her for something. And when they hung around the chippy or offie, they were moved along by the owners, who no doubt assumed, correctly, that they were up to no good. Neve couldn’t work out why they kept coming back to school, but they did. There were other places, fields, bus shelters, but weeks after the exams had finished, they still drifted to the old field they once shared their lunch breaks. Neve wondered if it was because, just like the hut, it was a safe space to enjoy the sun, and space, with no interruptions. It got her thinking: could you say the same of anywhere else around here?

  ‘Right, it’s gone five, shall we go back to my house?’ said Baz, who was rolling a cigarette indiscreetly.

  ‘You’re gonna get caught!’ said Holly, looking towards the school, waiting for a teacher to run towards them.

  ‘So, what can they do? We don’t go to this school anymore,’ he replied as he lit his cigarette and blew smoke high into the air.

  ‘Then we’re trespassing.’

  ‘No, we’re still technically students until September. And anyway, trespassing is kind of our thing,’ he continued, laughing. ‘So, are we going back to my house or what? My parents will be long gone by now. I wanna get pissed.’

  ‘I’m there,’ said Michael.

  ‘Shouldn’t you be doing your paper round about now?’ Chloe asked.

  ‘I got sacked. Old Busby found out about the missing hooch. Said he’d have me arrested if I did it again,’ he replied, finding it funnier than it was.

  ‘So, Michael’s coming, anyone else?’ Baz asked, laughing at Michael.

  ‘I’m coming,’ said Jamie, who wasn’t looking at Baz when he spoke, but at Neve, who smiled nervously, and confirmed she would be there as well.

  ‘Brilliant. Georgia, Chloe?’

  ‘Yes,’ they replied in unison, their eyes closed as they looked towards the sun, working on their tans.

  ‘So, we’re not going to the hut?’ asked Holly, a hint of relief in her tone that no one except Neve picked up on.

  ‘Not yet. The sun is shining, and we can’t sunbathe in there.’

  ‘Aren’t you worried about your parents coming home?’ asked Holly, who hadn’t said if she was going or not.

  ‘Honestly, it’s fine. Friday night is their night, now I’m sixteen they sometimes don’t come home at all.’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘They stay in a hotel to shag,’ Michael chipped in, making himself laugh more than anyone else.

  ‘Fuck off mate, I don’t wanna think about my parents like that, twat. And even if they do come back, it won’t be until late. We won’t be there because as soon as the sun goes down, we’ll move on to the hut.’

  ‘Do we have to? That place weirds me out,’ said Chloe.

  ‘We’ve all talked about it. That man you saw was probably squatting in the mine – I bet he worked there once and like everyone else, missed it and wanted to see it one more time.’

  ‘I know, but…’

  ‘But nothing. It wasn’t a ghost, just some person who shouldn’t have been there.’

  ‘I guess,’ Chloe replied. But since that ni
ght when she and Michael had seen a man near the mine entrance, she was sure she had seen him again. She didn’t tell anyone, but she was sure the same man had stood outside her house a few nights ago. When she approached, he walked away quickly.

  ‘He’s right, Chloe,’ said Neve reassuringly. ‘We freaked out because we were drunk. It wasn’t anyone.’

  ‘But…’

  ‘It wasn’t anyone, OK.’

  ‘OK. Sorry.’

  ‘Right, shall we go?’ Baz rose to his feet and turned to walk away from the school.

  The gang, as always, followed when Baz made a move and headed in the direction of hole in the fence. As they walked, Baz talked to Michael about how this might well be the last time they would ever crawl through the hole – when they were on their apprenticeships, they would be able to have a fag break whenever they wanted, no sneaking or hiding or worrying about being caught.

  Neve and Jamie tagged onto the rear of the group, walking side by side, so close their hands almost touched. Their friendship had deepened under the stress of the exams. Neve had had feelings for Jamie for a long time, but assumed, because of his aloof nature, he wasn’t interested. His aloofness took a turn as the first wave of exams began. Jamie started calling Neve to talk about how each one went. He made her laugh and they would talk until either Jamie’s dad or Neve’s mum told them to get off the landline. They didn’t speak now, they just walked silently, in perfect unison.

  As they took turns to duck through the gap in the fence, Neve hesitated and turned to look back at the other huge building in the village, one that was younger than the mine, one that wouldn’t ever close. It had been her reluctant home for the past five years. She would miss school. It was the place she met her friends, the place she had her first kiss, her first fight. School was where she learnt she wanted to be a businesswoman and perhaps own a company. It was a part of her, and, for the first time, Neve understood why her dad was so sad about the mine closing.

  ‘Come on, Neve, let’s go,’ Jamie said quietly, offering his hand to help her through the gap, although they both knew she was more than capable of climbing out unaided.

  It only took ten minutes for them to get back to Baz’s house. There was an air of anticipation about the evening. They had all made their excuses: Neve and Chloe said they were staying at Georgia’s; Georgia said she was staying at Holly’s; Holly was… well, Neve didn’t know what excuse Holly gave, but they all had their lies set which meant they could stay in Baz’s garden in tents, like they had been planning for weeks. The boys didn’t need to spin familiar lies. It was easy for them to stay with Baz, they often did. However, Michael and Jamie’s parents didn’t know that Baz’s mum and dad wouldn’t be there.

  Arriving at his house Baz led them towards the side gate, and reaching over the top, he loosened a squeaking bolt until the gate reluctantly opened. ‘Me casa es su casa.’ He gestured grandly to his friends as he led them to the side door which went straight into the kitchen. They had all been there before, but Michael couldn’t help appearing wide-eyed as they stepped in. The kitchen was something out of a show home. The space was so big it had an island in the middle, and hanging above it were saucepans that looked like they had never been used. The floorspace was almost the same size as Michael’s grandparents’ whole flat, with twin sofas facing each other, separated by a large television in the far corner. Despite the sofa technically being in the same room, the open-plan space was so long, it felt like an entirely different room. Michael used to feel jealous of Baz’s life, his wealth and good fortune. Now, he drank it all in. He would picture it being his kitchen, his island in the middle, his sofas and TV. One day he would have a place just like it. Baz took his environment in his stride. He had grown up in abundance, as his dad was a partner in the business that owned the mine, drawing a fortune out of others’ hard graft. He was one of the very few adults who wasn’t sad it was gone. He had made enough money to not need to work a second longer than its official close the previous winter.

  Baz wasn’t embarrassed, nor did he show off about his dad’s wealth. He didn’t offer explanation or apologise for it. To him, it was just one of those things. Some were rich, some were poor, and either way it didn’t really matter. As the group moved into the kitchen, he told them to make themselves at home before opening a pantry door, retrieving three bottles of spirits. One vodka, one 20/20 and a bottle of peach schnapps. He poured out the drinks into plastic glasses from a cupboard and handed them out, depending on everyone’s tastes.

  ‘To the night ahead,’ he said, knocking back the entire contents of his neat vodka.

  ‘The night ahead,’ the group echoed as they followed suit and drained their glasses.

  ‘Tastes like hairspray,’ Georgia said as she shivered. Beside her, Chloe was pulling a face that made Michael laugh. Without hesitation, Baz refilled their cups, except for Holly’s, who only sipped her drink, and they knocked them back in one go. Again, Holly only managed a sip.

  ‘Don’t tell me you’re gonna puke?’ Baz asked when he noticed her cup.

  ‘No, I’ll just not keep up, that’s fine.’

  ‘Come on, let’s get in the sun,’ Neve said, rolling her eyes.

  Baz walked across the open-plan space and opened the back door, leading directly onto a large patio area. He didn’t wait to hold the door open for anyone and it swung back into Michael, who didn’t seem to notice, or if he did, he wasn’t bothered. As the group followed, Neve hung back with Holly.

  ‘Don’t worry, Baz is just being Baz. He’s like a bulldog, charging about. You don’t have to keep up, Holly, drink at your own pace, but let yourself get drunk with us for a change.’

  ‘I’m just not much of a drinker.’

  ‘So, go slow.’

  ‘I just…’

  ‘Baz will keep offering drinks, but he won’t make you drink it. Besides, if you don’t drink much, he’ll be able to drink more.’

  ‘Great.’

  ‘You know what I mean, Holly. He doesn’t pressure his friends.’

  ‘Am I, though?’

  ‘What?

  ‘Am I his friend?’

  ‘You wouldn’t be here if you weren’t. Just chill out. Enjoy yourself. Now we’ve left school, we’re practically adults.

  ‘I guess?’

  ‘You guess. Holly, what’s your problem?’

  ‘Nothing.’

  ‘Let’s just enjoy today all right? Get drunk, have a laugh.’

  ‘You know I worry.’

  ‘There’s nothing to worry about.’

  ‘Baz and Michael tend to get stupid.’

  Neve looked at Holly. She knew she didn’t like drugs, that was fine. Neve didn’t like them either, and if she was honest, she was glad there would be nothing more than a little pot tonight. Holly looked desperate for reassurance. So, Neve took a breath and touched her friend on the arm. ‘Holly, it’s just us, some booze and a bit of pot. A bit boring really, when you think about it.’

  ‘You’re right. I just… do I have to get drunk?’

  ‘I know I’m right and no, not if you don’t want to, just drink enough to loosen up. Now go work on your tan, chill, I’ll get you a Coke or something.’

  ‘OK.’

  ‘Holly, smile.’

  ‘OK. Thanks, Neve.’

  Holly walked into the garden while Neve hung back to grab the vodka Baz couldn’t carry. She looked through the back door at her friends who were setting up blankets on the ground to sunbathe on. Georgia sat with Michael as he skinned up a joint, learning how to crumble the resin into the Rizla. Baz was busying himself filling up drinks again; Neve could see he acted differently when he approached Chloe, who was sitting on the edge of the blanket, facing away, her head back, working on her tan. Holly approached and sat beside her; Chloe smiled at her before they both looked towards the sun.

  Neve took a can of cherry Coke from the fridge and cracked it open, pouring half the contents into a glass. Satisfied she wasn’t being watched; she
filled the rest of the glass with vodka. If Holly noticed, Neve would say she added a drop, just in case anyone tasted it and teased her for not drinking. Holly would thank her, and before she knew it, she’d be hammered.

  Neve knew it would be a great night, but ever since Chloe and Michael had seen that man by the mine, it felt different. They had explained him away – a squatter, a drifter, someone who was harmless, someone who had no idea they were there. Still, thinking of him, and thinking of the story Jamie told about the man who was trapped down there, sent a shiver down her spine. She shook it off and stepped outside, smiling to Holly with the drink in her hand, feeling silly for letting herself, for the briefest of moments, believe in the stories they spoke of.

  Chapter 23

  24th November 2019

  Evening

  Dad slept for most of the day in his armchair. I spent a large portion of that time tiptoeing around, tidying his house, watering the plants in the bathroom that were in desperate need of saving. I don’t know why, but I wanted my dad to wake and the world around him be a little brighter, happier – something new, even. Then, when I had run out of things to do that wouldn’t disturb him, I found myself sitting on the sofa opposite just watching him sleep. I couldn’t help but stare at the sagging skin and deep wrinkles that marred his once strong, and dare I say, handsome face. I thought about my dad when I was young. He wasn’t around much; the world here consisted of the shift patterns down the mine, and that meant he would often be having breakfast as I was getting ready for bed. Our lives, like most lives in the village, were just passing ships. And when I woke up each morning, he was there, covered in coal dust, tired, smelling like an unused fireplace, proud. He would kiss me, kiss Mum, eat a hot meal whilst I got ready for school and then go to bed.

  But as I drifted back to those times, I remembered another side to our family – during the rare times when Dad took his holiday. I thought of a summer when I was around ten or eleven, Dad gently shaking me awake, a smile on his face. ‘Wake up, love, we’re going out.’ Sleepy and confused, I climbed into the back of the car, still in my pyjamas and we drove away from the village until, several hours later, Mum pointed to a stretch of blue that was the sea. Dad allowed me to bury him neck deep in the sand and Mum drew a funny body over him, making him look like he was wearing a bikini. She got out the video camera and filmed him. He feigned being embarrassed, but really, I could see he loved being someone who could laugh and play in the sunshine with his family. He fake-protested, begging my mum to stop filming him, but she didn’t, she told him to smile, say hello to the camera, and said that this moment would be something we could laugh about in years to come. We stayed in a tent, on a campsite close to the coast, the sound of the sea breathing at night matching the gentle breathing of Mum and Dad as they slept. Back then, life was clean, bright. It made sense. Then the mine shut, and overnight he became the aged, battered thing that slept in an armchair and only spoke of the small things. And that recording, I have no idea what happened to it.