While they had waited for the ambulance to arrive, the officer had questioned Max in a firm but calming manner, ignoring the outbursts and accusations Patsy continued to fire off. Max had answered the questions as diligently as possible, describing the chaos he’d encountered after arriving home early from school, and how he’d reacted automatically in an attempt to protect his mother.
“I didn’t mean for him to die,” he’d mumbled quietly, hoping against hope that he wouldn’t do something unmanly like start to cry. His voice had been hoarse, and his hands had been trembling, so he’d hastily shoved them into his jacket pockets. “I just didn’t want him to keep hitting Mum so I grabbed up the cricket bat over there and gave him a few whacks. The - the other happened when he tripped and fell against the stove over there. It - it was an accident, I swear it.”
“All right,” the officer had assured him in a kindly manner. The tall, leanly built man had dropped a hand to Max’s shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “That will do for now, young man. We’ll talk in more detail down at the station. You, uh, will need to come with us, I’m afraid. To give an official statement and such, and so we can figure out what happens next.”
Another pair of officers had arrived then, and Max had been instructed to accompany them downstairs to their vehicle. It had been snowing in earnest by then, and he’d been relieved to notice that the police vehicle was a sturdy four-wheel drive. The short drive to the police station had been made in silence, and he was grateful that no one was out and about in the neighborhood to notice him riding in the back of the SUV.
As the minutes continued to tick by, Max grew increasingly anxious about what sort of fate was to befall him. It was extremely doubtful that he’d get out of this whole mess without some sort of consequences, and wondered how on earth he would ever be able to co-habitate with his mother ever again after the way she’d turned on him. That she had chosen to take Robby’s part over her own son’s hurt deeply, even though Max knew that the drugs she’d imbibed had likely impaired her judgement.
And the gossip that would be sure to ensue would be more than he could bear. Oh, for sure he would gain the respect and even admiration of his peers, his reputation as being someone you didn’t mess with growing by leaps and bounds overnight. But the incident would also lose him the respect of his teachers, and would of a certainty jeopardize his hopes of transferring to a better school or even getting into university in a few years. Surely these sorts of things had to be reported, mused Max, and made part of someone’s permanent record. He highly doubted that Oxford or Cambridge or any of the universities in the States he hoped to attend would want someone accused of manslaughter as one of their students.
He should have just called the police himself, thought Max morosely, rather than barge inside like the cavalry and try to deal with the situation himself. Then none of this would have happened. Robby would still be alive, though arrested and charged with assault and hopefully sent to prison for a lengthy period of time. And Max would not be sitting in this small, intimidating room wondering what horrible fate awaited him.
He gave a start when the door opened and the police officer who had questioned him back at the apartment walked inside the room, followed by a second man whose presence filled Max with a combined sense of relief and dismay. For the man was none other than kindly Mr. Harkness, Max’s mathematics teacher, and the one who had first suggested that Max should try and transfer to a higher performing school.
Max was grateful to see a familiar face, while at the same time he was ashamed that the man he always tried so hard to please had to see him in a place like this room. He had no idea how or why Mr. Harkness had been summoned to the police station, but given the reassuring smile that wreathed the older man’s face Max tried to feel comforted by his presence.
“Are you all right, Max?” inquired Mr. Harkness gently, placing a hand on the boy’s shoulder. “Inspector Drummond has filled me in on the basics of what happened.”
Max nodded, trying his very best to appear brave and resolute in front of both his teacher and the police inspector. “Yes, sir. I’m all right. Just, well, rather nervous, I suppose, about what’s going to happen to me next.”
“Understandable,” agreed Inspector Drummond, as he took a seat and gestured for Mr. Harkness to do the same. “Well, let’s have a chat, young man, and see if we can put your mind at ease a bit, hmm? Mr. Harkness here happens to live across the street from me, we’ve been friends for more than twenty years, so I gave him a quick call to ask if he knew of you from the school. When he heard your name he insisted on coming straight over, even in this dreadful weather.”
Max gave his teacher a grateful smile. “Thank you, sir. Though it wasn’t necessary. I don’t want to bother you with my troubles, Mr. Harkness.”
“It’s no bother at all, Max,” assured Mr. Harkness. “John here was quite right. The moment he told me what had happened to you I came straight away. Fortunately we live just three blocks from here since the weather is far too nasty to drive in. Now, I understand you’ve already told John what happened back at your apartment, but if you’re not too shaken up both of us would like to hear it all again.”
“All right,” agreed Max somewhat reluctantly.
He didn’t have a problem re-hashing the details with the police officer, but he was hesitant for the teacher he admired and respected to fully realize the sort of unpalatable circumstances Max had been living in. Still, his voice was steady as he slowly recalled the series of events for the two men, though he couldn’t help feeling more than a little ashamed when he acknowledged that his mother had most likely been high on something.
Inspector Drummond nodded. “I think that was fairly obvious to myself and the other officers on sight. Your mother was beyond hysterical, totally out of control, and we’ve seen plenty of similar cases to know exactly when someone’s hopped up. We’ll know just what she injected herself with after the toxicology results come back, but based on what I’ve seen in my career I’d bet on heroin.”
Max nodded. “Yes, I’m sure you’re right. That’s - well, she’s used it before.”
“We found several kilos of the stuff stashed in your apartment, along with a variety of other drugs,” confirmed Inspector Drummond. “Marijuana, cocaine, meth, pills. Not to mention a stack of stolen credit cards, a suitcase filled with cash, and some other items that were obviously pilfered - jewelry, portable phones, electronics. Your mother claimed not to know how any of those things wound up in her apartment, insists that Mr. Bidwell - ah, better known to you as Robby, I believe - hid them without her knowledge. But after some more questioning she admitted to helping herself to some of his stash, and when Robby discovered it was missing that was when he began hitting her.”
“Where - where’s my mum now?” ventured Max uncertainly.
“She’s being held here at the station overnight. The weather is supposed to clear enough tomorrow for her to be transferred. To - to the women’s prison near Lancashire. That’s where she’ll stay until her case comes to trial. Unless, of course, her legal advisor decides some sort of plea deal makes more sense. Either way, your mother will be serving some prison time, I’m afraid, especially since she assaulted one of our officers after you and I left the apartment.”
Max shuddered. “It - it was the drugs, sir. Normally, Mum isn’t violent that way. At least not that I’ve ever seen.”
“She’s never hit you then, Max?” asked Mr. Harkness gently.
“No, never. She screams at me plenty, but she’s never hit me.”
“What about Robby Bidwell?” inquired Inspector Drummond. “Has he ever been violent towards your mother before today? Or towards you, for that matter.”
Max gave a quick shake of his head. “Not to me, that’s for sure. As for my mum, I can’t really say. I’ve only ever seen Robby two times before today, since Mum just started seeing him a couple of months ago. And, well, she’s not home much in the evenings. She
works nights, you see, and, well, likes to go out with her friends on her nights off.”
Mr. Harkness frowned. “So she thinks nothing of leaving you alone every night? I’ve never seen your apartment, Max, but I don’t believe that part of town is particularly safe.”
Max gave a small shrug, not wanting to make things worse for his mother - who was evidently already in a considerable amount of trouble - by making her sound like a neglectful parent. “It’s fine. I’m old enough to look out for myself. And Mum can’t be too picky about jobs, you know. She does the best she can.”
“Your father isn’t in the picture, then?” asked the police officer.
Max scoffed. “Hardly. I haven’t seen him since I was a little boy. Ever since he was hauled off to prison himself. He was killed by another inmate three years ago.”
“Hmm. Seems like your mother has a pattern of getting involved with the wrong sort of man, doesn’t it?” mused Inspector Drummond. “Unsurprisingly, good old Robby had a lengthy arrest record himself - drugs, assault, robbery, that sort of thing. Been in and out of prison half a dozen times. You’re lucky you didn’t spend much time around him, young man.”
“Just enough time to cause his death, though,” muttered Max darkly. “I shouldn’t have barged inside that way, should have thought to just call for help. Then Robby would still be alive, my mum wouldn’t be in prison, and I - well, I wouldn’t be on my own way to jail.”
“Jail?” repeated Inspector Drummond in surprise. “Is that what you’ve been thinking, Max? That you’ll be sent to juvenile lockup because of this?”
Max looked at the police officer anxiously, then at Mr. Harkness, who seemed equally as startled. “I - I killed him,” he whispered shakily. “Not intentionally, of course, but it was still my fault.”
“No. It most certainly was not,” insisted the police officer. “We’ll have to wait for the official autopsy report, of course, but from the way you described it all unfolding, plus the location of the - the head wound, what happened to Robby Bidwell was simply an unfortunate accident.”
“Given what a reprobate this Robby character was, I’d say not so unfortunate,” grumbled Mr. Harkness. “Not to speak ill of the dead, mind you, but I’m tempted to say that the world’s far better off without the likes of him in it.”
Inspector Drummond grinned at his friend and neighbor. “Why, Gerry, how very unchristian of you to say something like that! But thank you for taking the words out of my mouth, words that would have been very inappropriate for an officer of the law to say out loud. Now, young Max, let’s clear up a few things, hmm? I’m very sorry you’ve been worried all this time about the possibility of being hauled off to jail, but let me assure you right now that is definitely not what’s going to happen. However, under the circumstances, you won’t be able to remain here in town, either At least not for more than a few days.”
“There’s no way to know right now how long your mother might be - well, let’s call it away, shall we?” asked Mr. Harkness a bit awkwardly. “And you obviously can’t live alone, Max, not without any means of support or a guardian. Do you have any other family members in England who might be willing to take you in?”
“No, sir. There’s no one. My grandmother passed on a few years ago, but she and my mum had had a falling out long before then. And I never even knew any of my father’s family. I think they probably didn’t want anything to do with him. So it’s just me and my mum is all.”
“That’s what we figured,” replied Mr. Harkness. “Now, I know that we’ve discussed the idea of getting you transferred to a better school in one of the neighboring towns. But that, of course, was contingent on continuing to live here as you’ve been doing with your mother. Since that prospect is off the table now, I have a different proposal for you, Max. A much better one, in fact. One that I hope you’ll agree will be the best possible situation for you.”
Max gave a short, ironic laugh. “Without even hearing what your proposal is, sir, I’d have to say that anything is better than my current circumstances. And definitely better than being locked up in some sort of youth facility or prison.”
“That is definitely not going to happen, young man,” insisted Inspector Drummond. “While the investigation into this matter is still ongoing, I can assure you that you won’t be charged with anything. Several of the neighbors have already given statements that they heard the screaming and commotion coming from your apartment several minutes before you arrived home. And the next door neighbor told us this wasn’t the first time she’d heard fighting between your mother and Robby. So get that idea out of your head at once that you’ll be locked up or sent away, hmm? Now, Mr. Harkness has come up with what I think you’ll agree is an ideal solution, so let’s listen to him, shall we?”
At Max’s nod, his teacher gave him an assuring smile.
“After you and I had our chat a few weeks ago about getting you transferred to a different school, I happened to get a phone call that same evening from my brother,” began Mr. Harkness. “He’s the headmaster at a school for boys down near Birmingham. A very fine school, very highly rated, and not easy to gain admittance to. I mentioned you to Nigel at the time, told him what a hardworking student you were, and how high all of your test scores were, particularly in maths. Nigel indicated at the time that if a spot became available perhaps he could arrange a scholarship for you, even to include your room and board since the school is a good two hours drive from here.”
Max was paying very close attention to every word his teacher said, while at the same time trying not to get his hopes up that such a miracle might actually be possible. It would be a dream come true for him to attend a really good school, not to mention being able to actually board there and thereby escape this downtrodden town.
“When I got the call from John asking if I knew of a student by your name, and then heard what had happened, I got in touch with Nigel straightaway,” continued Mr. Harkness. “As it so happens, given that it’s already February and halfway through the school year, a couple of students have transferred out. Which means there’s an opening there for you, Max. The school is called Kingsbury Academy, and it’s quite an impressive place. My brother has tried to convince me to teach there myself, but my wife doesn’t want to leave her family behind here. Not to mention the fact that I’m needed here, I think. Oh, I realize that with the majority of my students I’m more or less wasting my time. They don’t want to learn, won’t do anything worthwhile with their lives after they’re finished with school. But once in a great while, Max, a student like you comes along - one who shows great promise, exhibits great ambition. And who makes my normally thankless job worthwhile.”
Max swallowed with some difficulty, hardly daring to venture to ask, “So - so I’m to attend school there, sir? At - at your brother’s place?”
Mr. Harkness smiled broadly and nodded with enthusiasm. “You most certainly are, Max. Nigel still has to work out all of the details, but he’s confident he can arrange a scholarship for you. Now, when you’re old enough in another couple of years, you may need to work for some of the scholarship money - help in the school office or library or even around the grounds.”
“I can do that now, Mr. Harkness!” declared Max firmly. “I don’t mind working, not even a bit. I would have taken a job here in town months ago if someone would have hired me. But I’m only thirteen, so I suppose it’s against the law to employ someone my age.”
“That’s correct. And the school also has some rules about what age a student must be prior to being in any sort of work-study program. But your willingness to work hard at whatever job you’re asked to do will impress Nigel and his staff. And I already know that you’ll excel academically, Max. In my twenty-five years of teaching I don’t think I’ve ever had a student who’s as eager to learn or who studies quite so hard as you do. You’ll thrive at Kingsbury, Max. And while I know this unfortunate series of events has been upsetting to say the least, perhaps one
day you might be able to consider it something of a blessing in disguise.”
***
Three Months Later
“Hugo Boss, hmm? That’s a nice one, Max. Good quality for sure, and in very good condition. And you can’t beat that price. You would have paid almost a hundred pounds more for that shirt if it were brand new.”
Max eyed the plain but well tailored shirt of dove gray with a critical eye. “I think you’re right, Theo. It’s a bit more expensive than the Calvin Klein, but this one’s in better shape and looks classier. All right, it’s decided then. The Hugo Boss shirt, the trousers from Marks & Spencer, and the Ralph Lauren jumper.”
Theo Shepherd grinned at his roommate. “And all of that for just under fifty pounds! I might have taught you all you know about men’s fashion, Max, but you learned the part about finding a good bargain all on your own.”
Max offered up a small smile. “I learned about shopping on a budget from the time I was old enough to tie my own shoes. Trust me, I’ve never had this much money to spend on clothes in my whole life. And I still have over fifty pounds left to buy a pair of shoes and some incidentals. Speaking of which, the shoe section is over here.”
Theo trotted after his tall, broad-shouldered roommate - the one he was still rather in awe of, even three months after meeting him for the first time - to the smallish selection of men’s shoes that the secondhand shop offered. Since it was a Saturday, the students from Kingsbury were allowed off campus for a few hours, and Theo had agreed to accompany Max on this shopping excursion to Birmingham. The boys had caught the bus into the city along with several of their classmates, then headed off on their own to this secondhand clothing store Max had learned about from one of the teachers.
The One Real Regret Page 3