Ellipsis

by Nikki Dudley

  Mum, you’re dead and we both have to let go.

  If only I had been able to see that a couple of years ago, perhaps I wouldn’t have pushed that man onto the tracks.

  43 The Secret

  Thom still has the taste of Sarah on his lips when he retraces his route back to Aunty Val’s house in the numb darkness of early evening. He feels like he has been absent for so long; the paint on the door looks more cracked, the weeds droopier and extending their talons closer to the gate.

  Is he ready to go back in there? Is he ready to face Aunty Val and Richard?

  He stands at the front gate as though it is an obstacle to his entry and runs his tongue over his lips, closing his eyes and imagining he is back in the bedsit with Sarah. He doesn’t understand why she left or why he’d been abandoned in the cold damp room immersed in the memory of her warm kiss.

  It is only a few hours later, after Thom decides he needs some fresh boxers, that he makes his way across the city and back to the house he ran away from only days before. After all that has happened, he feels like he is an explorer who has returned after months of rough expeditions that have taken him to the brink of death.

  He finally slinks through the gate, tiptoeing around the cracked paving, wondering how broken his family are inside the house. He reaches the door and somewhere in the depths of his pockets, rediscovers his keys. It takes him several seconds to direct the key into the lock at first; then he turns it in the wrong direction.

  Eventually, Thom pushes the door open. The hallway is a murky crossing. All the lights are off, the darkness huddling in the corners and threatening to smother him. Thom takes a step inside, the soft pad of his feet on the carpet sounding like a stick clashing against a gong. Thom winches and closes himself inside gently, the lock making only a whisper as he guides it into the frame.

  Thom stops and listens to the house, hearing nothing but the central heating humming and the natural creaks of the structure, like bones cracking spontaneously. Thom sighs loudly, adding to these sounds, becoming a human instrument. Thom closes his eyes and enjoys the way his breathing is in harmony with the moaning of the house. Is it sad? Like all three of them?

  Thom still has his eyes closed when he realises that someone else is in the hallway. The music in Thom’s mind is interrupted by the ragged breathing of another person; sounding as though they are catching their breath after inhaling smoke into their lungs. Thom opens his eyes and sees Aunty Val standing in the doorway to the kitchen. She slowly tiptoes her way towards him. She stops in front of him, giving him half a look before staring at the wall. After her tearful pleas the other night, Thom isn’t expecting this.

  “I didn’t know if you were coming back”, she says quietly. Thom has to strain to hear.

  “Of course I would”, he insists. He considers reaching out and taking her hand but decides not to. The only person he wants to touch in any capacity at the moment is Sarah. His hands have hurt too many people lately. His hands have been prying into things blindly with serious consequences.

  “What happened to us?” she asks, locking her fingers together and twisting them. Again, Thom expects her to cry but she seems calmer. Perhaps she has finally accepted that Daniel is dead.

  “We lost someone”, he tells her, “and we found out more than we wanted to”.

  “Do you wish you hadn't found out that he knew about his death?”

  “Sometimes I do”. Thom shrugs. “But at other times I’m glad I can finally understand Daniel more than I did when he was alive”. Aunty Val gives him a tight smile, not sure how she feels about this comment. Perhaps she has similar thoughts but, as Daniel’s mother, can’t justify vocalising them.

  “Shall we sit down Thom? We can’t talk properly here”.

  He nods and follows her to the kitchen where they both take a seat around the table. The table; where numerous family arguments, dinners, birthday parties, board games and bingo have taken place. What is this occasion? And will it restore the family that has been deteriorating revelation by revelation?

  “You were right about Daniel’s room”, she starts quietly. Thom simply nods. “Where do you think it all went?” she continues.

  “I have no idea”. Thom answers and he really doesn’t know. Perhaps Daniel burnt everything, or donated it to charity, or it is all stored in another lock up somewhere. They will probably never find out.

  “How did you find out that Daniel knew about his death?” Aunty Val thrusts at him, nearly giving Thom a head rush. Thom thinks about how this all started – the note on the day of Daniel’s funeral. An ending and a beginning in such close proximity. Why hadn’t he just told them all there and then?

  “I found a note in his room”, Thom confesses, relief hissing out of his mouth.

  “A note”, she repeats slowly and continues, “what does it say, Thom?”

  “It has the time and place that he died”. At his words, she slams her hands down on the table, the thud echoing through the groaning house. Thom stiffens in his chair, regressing for a moment, and then tells himself to sit forward again.

  “Nothing else?” Her voice creaks.

  “No Aunty”, Thom insists, his face flushing with heat, despite telling the truth.

  “Why would that be in his room?” She grabs his sleeve and shakes his arm violently a few times. It is as though he is the one who wrote it.

  “I don’t know. I just found it”, Thom pleads, pulling his sleeve out of her hold.

  “Why didn’t you say? Where is it?” She barks, shoving the table towards him so it crunches into his ribs. Thom sags over the table and massages his chest, winded. Aunty Val immediately sprints to his side and pulls his chair back. She rubs his chest in an attempt to apologise but he pushes her off.

  “You just had to ask”. Thom jumps to his feet and digs into his pocket. He drags out the crumpled note that he has carried everywhere since he found it. It looks worn and faded, a shadow of the pristine clue it had once been. It seems as overused as Thom’s thoughts that have circled around him like a whirlpool, sucking him down and vomiting him back out.

  Aunty Val hesitates. It takes her several seconds of staring into Thom’s face to reach towards the note. She flattens it down with her palm and bends towards it as though she is peering over the edge of a cliff. Thom watches her expression twitching and contorting as she reads the words, her eyes rolling from side to side as she reads. It seems like she is reading a long book, not a one-line note.

  Thom thinks about comforting her, placing a hand on her shoulder, but he doesn’t. He waits beside her, arms crossed, ribs sore. Aunty Val begins smoothing out the paper again, scratching out the creases with her fingernails but it hardly makes any difference.

  “Does this mean he did it?” she finally asks quietly, a tear slipping beyond her control and crawling down her cheek.

  “Did what?”

  “Killed himself?” She nearly chokes on the words.

  “I think he did”. Thom swallows hard.

  “The police called and said that”, she whispers, wrapping her own hands around herself, “but somehow I thought, maybe he didn’t… But I guess there’s too much proof now”. Her teeth chatter, although the room is boiling.

  “The police called?”

  “Yes. They just said it’s an open and shut case”.

  “It figures…” Thom shakes his head at the police’s tendency to take the easy way out. “You know, I kept thinking that perhaps he just knew someone was trying to kill him, as crazy as that sounds… But I met that lady who came to the reading, Mrs Tray, and she showed me a letter from Daniel asking her to come to the reading in advance”.

  “Why did you go and see that woman?” she asks, her voice shaking on her body’s behalf. She is looking at him as though he has done something wrong. Much like the note, him keeping it from her is a betrayal.

  “I wanted to know why she attended the reading. I thought it might help me understand more about Daniel and why he died”. Aunty Val g
rabs his hand and wrings it between hers. Thom wants to cry out but he holds it inside, the screaming roaring until he feels his head begin to throb.

  “I know why”, she says noiselessly but he only understands because he is staring into her face and sees the movement of her lips. The throbbing intensifies, yet Thom only hears the silent words in his mind “I know”… “I know why”. Thom thinks he understands what the words mean; he thinks he remembers the definitions he learnt for them. Yet they don’t seem to make sense, in any order, in any context he has known before.

  “What?” Thom eventually murmurs. Aunty Val grips his hands harder until they begin to numb. She is trying to push him against the table, make him take a seat but he resists and pushes back. She lifts her hand up, pressing her clammy palm against his facial hair. Her sweat soaks into his beard.

  “I know why he killed himself”, she tells him again, louder, but she is looking at the floor.

  “I can hear you but I don’t understand”, Thom confesses, grabbing her by the shoulders and shaking her gently as if the meaning will fall out of her. “If you knew something all this time, why wouldn’t you have said?” Thom persists, grabbing the note from the table and wagging it in her face. “You can tell I’ve been going crazy with it all, tearing myself in pieces… Why didn’t you save me?”

  “That’s all I’ve tried to do”, she insists; grabbing him by the face and making him look into her eyes. Thom shoves her backwards, the blood throbbing through his veins so fiercely he feels dizzy.

  “You were saving me? How exactly were you doing that?” he snarls.

  “I’m sure he would’ve told you himself, if he hadn’t died…” Aunty Val’s chin crumbles as she fights her tears. “But then he died and I didn’t think it was important… But I guess it was the reason”. She stares into the distance, and Thom has to jab her in the arm in order to attract her attention again. She almost looks surprised that he is still there.

  “He was dying anyway”, she explains, a sob stabbing at her body so that she folds for a second, holding onto the table for support. Thom stares, wide mouthed, waiting to receive the words. Why do they sound so distant? Why does it sound like a language he has never heard before?

  “Daniel was ill”, she adds, sucking in air continuously but with little effect. She is bent over the table, as though she is about to give birth.

  “What are you talking about?” Thom spits. “Daniel wasn’t ill. I would’ve known. Richard would have known… we all would have…” Thom stumbles over words like he is jumping hurdles with his legs tied together.

  “I’m sorry”, Aunty Val moans, pressing against her eyelids to force the tears back into her eyes but they gather under her eyelashes anyway. “I’m so sorry Thom. I’ve been a terrible mum”. She sobs harder, bending further towards the table as though an invisible force is pushing her down.

  “What are you talking about?” Thom pulls at his hair. Aunty Val turns and pulls him towards her, her nails digging into his arms until he is certain the skin will break.

  “Daniel was dying”, she repeats. “I should have told you but I just didn’t know how to. After he died… I didn’t think it mattered anymore”.

  “Of course it matters”. Thom shoots his words at her, causing her to cower away from him slightly. “Do you understand what you’re saying?” Thom screeches. “Do you understand?” He screams louder. Aunty Val bows her head, her tears now dropping straight from her eyes onto the wooden floor with a loud splat.

  “I wanted to tell you but Daniel got so angry when we talked…” she trails off, closing her eyes, remembering. Her eyes are clenched like tiny fists. “I know he didn’t mean it, he just got so angry…” She lifts her hands up, still holding onto him by the wrists, and presses his tensed hands against her cheeks. She is performing his actions for him.

  “Is that when he hit you?”

  “How do you…?” Aunty Val begins but loses her words in her stuttering.

  “Know?” Thom finishes for her, taking his hands back. “Richard told me the other day when you fainted”. Aunty Val’s face plummets instantly.

  “You shouldn’t think he was a bad person. Please Thom. You believe me, don’t you?” She raises her arms again to reach out to him but she drops them at his flat expression.

  “He must’ve been upset. He just found out he was ill, maybe dying”. Thom shakes his head, some of the puzzle he has been twisting and turning around for weeks finally making sense. “I guess he just thought jumping would be quicker”.

  “I don’t think that’s why he jumped”, she says. This time her words are clear, like bells echoing in his ears for minutes afterwards. Thom stares at her, feeling faint.

  “I think you need to explain that”.

  44 The Donor

  Initially, Aunty Val doesn’t say anything. For a moment, Thom wonders if she remembers what she has just said, how she has just ripped his feet from his legs so he can barely stand. She gives a short exhale, pulls out a chair and seats herself. Thom watches her, clasping her hands together in front of her, staring straight ahead. Thom finally takes the seat opposite her.

  “You know why he jumped?” Thom asks sternly. Aunty Val blinks for several seconds, her lips taut and dry. It is so silent Thom can hear her swallowing; it is the loud and elongated sound of fluid squeezing through a tight pipe.

  “Yes”, she whispers, not wanting to reveal the secret she has been keeping from him for months. Thom feels livid and guilty, because although he should be mad for Daniel’s sake, he mainly feels angry for himself. How can she have lied to him? How can she have let him comfort her when she knew the truth?

  “I’m sorry, Thom”, she mutters.

  “I’m not interested in that, just tell me”, Thom says viciously.

  “Okay”, she agrees. Thom is staring at her, wondering how the person he has always trusted and respected can look so hazy and stained across the table.

  “About nine months before he died, Daniel asked to talk to me. Well you know how he never liked to talk much… so I sat down straight away to listen”, she pauses, each letter an obstacle course from her brain to the atmosphere. “He said he was ill, he said he’d been to the doctor’s because he’d been feeling really tired. He thought nothing of it… but they called him back in and told him; he had leukaemia”.

  “How could that be?” Thom leans forward, the word ‘leukaemia’ striking him in the face. There hadn’t been an inkling of this or even the hint of an inkling.

  “I know Thom… leukaemia. I had no idea about it. I always imagined children got it, not young men…” She keeps gulping in the middle of words, chewing on their sounds and leaving them ragged. “I didn’t take it very well Thom. After all these years just the four of us, it felt like part of myself was torn away”. She hopes Thom will say something, perhaps sympathise with her, but he remains silent. “For one of only a few times, he looked scared, Thom. He was nearly crying. He even let me hold him”.

  “Did they say they could help him?” Thom asks quietly, imagining the scene at this very table as she describes it. He can’t see Daniel though; he can’t see Daniel in the pose she describes.

  “A few weeks later, Daniel went to hospital. They told him he would have to have chemotherapy and after that, might need to get a bone marrow transplant”, she explains sharply. The end of the sentence is pronounced but Thom thinks there is a lot more she should be divulging. She can’t end the conversation here, although she seems to want to.

  “So what happened?”

  “Well, Daniel wanted to be prepared for everything involved with the treatment”. She pauses, taking a few deep breaths. “Do you know what that means, Thom? About the bone marrow?” Aunty Val takes his hand. She seems to be tugging on it gently as though she is trying to stay afloat. Thom ignores this but when he looks into her face, finds it harder to ignore the sweat that has swollen up underneath her fringe.

  “How does it work? I might think I know but I probably don’t”. />
  “Full siblings are usually the best match. Their healthy marrow is meant to encourage the growth of blood cells or something like that. I asked a friend to look it up online but I don’t remember everything now”.

  “I did hear some things like that”, Thom agrees. She nods and begins rolling her head, rolling her thoughts around. They splash out in her expression like water slamming against the sides of a deck.

  “I have something else to tell you Thom but… I’m scared”.

  “Why he did it?” Thom tries to pull it out of her. At his words, she lets out a quiet whimper. Her secret seems to be fighting its way out.

  “I have wanted to tell you for months, well – for years”.

  “What the hell is it, Aunty?” Thom snaps. She reaches out, letting her hand hover near his face but instantly takes it back. The conversation has been plagued by half-gestures and withdrawals.

  “Daniel wanted to ask Richard if he would be a donor”, she says, every sentence seeming like the start of a novel.

  “Did Richard say no?”

  “No”, Aunty Val answers quickly. “Daniel never asked him”.

  “Why not?” Thom yelps.

  “When Daniel told me he was ill, he asked me if I thought Richard would help him”, she pauses, her breaths growing shallow and rapid, “but I told him that Richard couldn’t help him, even if he wanted to”.

  “Are you saying what I think you are?” Thom finally believes he understands something in the whole scheme of facts that have been eluding him.

  “They weren’t full siblings”. She lets out a muffled sob. Thom gets up and moves to her side. After some hesitation, he puts his arms around her. She leans back into him.

  “How could you have never said something before?”

  “I don’t know...”

  “So there’s no chance Richard could have helped?”

  “Not no chance”, she admits, tightening her grip on his arms.

  “So what happened? Why didn’t Daniel talk to Richard? Why didn’t you?” Thom feels like he is accusing her of something but he doesn’t know what. He tightens his grip around her but not in need of affection, instead possessed by anger.