by Peter Martin
Meanwhile Tim was busy setting up the television on the broad windowsill. He flicked through the available channels eventually finding a gardening programme, probably more for his father’s benefit than his own.
Unfortunately it was lost on Bob as he continued to torment himself about Maria’s situation. Somehow he’d make amends for everything, no matter what it took, he decided.
When Maria woke some time later, she was quiet and reserved and at one point Bob assisted her to and from the bathroom. She was like a fragile old woman ravaged by some mysterious illness. And he wondered if his presence might help bring her out of it.
‘Maria, you’re worrying me – and I don’t know what to do to help.’
‘No need to worry, I’ll be fine.’
Taking in the situation Tim asked, ‘Feel a bit better now mum?’
She smiled, ‘I don’t want you two to keep fussing over me.’
‘Ok. Whatever you say mum.’
Then they relaxed, Bob sat next to her on top of the bed, while Tim sat on a chair by them, his feet up on the end of it.
They continued to watch television a while longer before Tim yawning said. ‘It’s nearly eleven o’clock about time we all went to sleep – don’t you agree, mum, dad?’
‘Yes,’ Bob agreed. ‘I need a good night’s sleep.’
‘Want a hot drink to go to bed on, mum?’
‘Just a glass of water.’
‘For me too,’ Bob said.
‘Sure? A hot drink might help you sleep better, like it did last night, mum.’
‘No Tim, anything else hot will make me throw up.’
‘I’m not much for hot drinks on a night anyway,’ Bob added.
Tim shrugged his shoulders, leaving them momentarily, to go downstairs to fetch their water. He returned two minutes later, and left the two glasses of water on the dressing table, within easy reach.
‘I’ll say goodnight then. If you need me during the night, give me a call. I’ll leave my bedroom door open.’
‘That won’t be necessary, son.’
When Tim was gone, Bob took a sip of his water, encouraging Maria to do the same. She drank it all in one gulp, which seemed to rejuvenate her.
‘Glad to see you’re thirsty love. Plenty of fluids always help when you’re ill. But please try to eat more, you’re wasting away and you could do yourself some serious damage. It’s terrible what’s happened to your parents, but being like this won’t solve anything.’
He put his hand into hers to comfort her.
‘I realise that. I’m still distraught over what happened, I miss dad so much, and I worry over what will happen to mum. But that’s not why I’m not eating. I constantly feel sick and my stomach aches, and I can’t face that Complan.’
‘You must have caught a bug on top of everything else. Best to let it run its course, love.’
‘That’s easier said than done.’
‘At least we’re together again now, the three of us, like we were before. Surely that’s got to make a difference to you.’
‘How can I be sure of that? You never listened to a word I said, instead you believed Alan who you’d only known a short while. So why should I trust you? Maybe I’m better off on my own.’
He closed his eyes for a few seconds and looked at her as if he was in pain. ‘I’m sorry, I got it wrong, and I’m paying for it. But I’m trying to make it up to you.’
‘You haven’t changed Bob, you always see things your own way,’ she said, holding her stomach.
‘Are you all right?’
‘No, I’m not. I don’t feel well.’
‘Is there anything I can get you? We ought to call the doctor out.’
‘You’re making too much fuss, leave me alone. Just because you’re here doesn’t mean I’ll make a miraculous recovery.’
‘All right don’t rub it in, I understand what you’re saying.’ But surely there was something he could do to help her.
Obviously not wanting to argue she closed her eyes and within no time at all was asleep. Bob turned the light off, hoping she’d have a good night’s rest.
Eventually he got ready to go to bed and changing into his night clothes in the darkness of the room he got the feeling that ‘the goings on’ here didn’t ring true. Ok, she’d had a dreadful shock, with the fire and her parents, but under normal circumstances it didn’t lead to the symptoms she was experiencing. If it was a virus surely she’d be over it by now. Then here was Tim, in his new role as the devoted son, looking after his mother, but was his behaviour not a little too obsessive?
As he lay down on the floor in the sleeping bag Tim had given him, his mind was full of unanswered questions. He seemed to be lying awake for hours but must have eventually dropped off because the next time he opened his eyes light was seeping into the room. However, he woke still in the same frame of mind as a few hours ago, pondering over Tim’s behaviour. He felt groggy and achy, although that could be from the fitful sleep he’d had or perhaps he was getting too old to sleep on a hard floor?
Maria appeared calm and relaxed, still sleeping peacefully. He left the room to go to the bathroom hoping not to wake her. Passing Tim’s room confirmed what he had guessed: lying there quietly snoring away Tim was dead to the world. Bob smiled, but wondered if his son really had changed and inevitably this led him back to his misgivings of the night before.
At some point today he wanted to get out of the house to clear his head. So he tiptoed downstairs so as not to wake anyone, and went into the kitchen to make himself a cup of tea and something to eat. After putting the kettle on he opened the fridge to check if they needed any groceries, but surprisingly it was well-stocked with food. He pulled out a bottle of milk, and searched for the cereals, which he found in a cupboard to the side of the sink unit. He got out a spoon and a dish, but again was surprised how orderly things were, and everywhere was spotless.
After eating the bowl of cereals he made a pot of tea, enough for three cups, one of which he would take up to Maria.
Leaving the dirty dishes in the washing up bowl, he walked through the kitchen door to the bottom of the stairs, Maria’s cup of tea in his hand. But as he approached the top he caught sight of Tim standing there on the landing, a strange look on his face.
‘You all right dad? I checked the bathroom and mum’s room and I wondered where you’d got to. Thank God you’re ok.’ Tim put the flat of his hand against his chest.
For a minute Bob was nonplussed, he’d only been downstairs to make a cup of tea. Why was Tim behaving like this? All right so the lad looked weary - his eyes had a tiredness about them, but trying not to antagonise him further Bob said, ‘I got peckish, and had a bowl of cereals. I thought Maria might like a cup of tea.’
‘Dad, you needn’t have bothered, I was about to cook you breakfast. I’ll do mum something…’
‘You should do her a glass of that Complan, it’s supposed to have all the vitamins and minerals she needs.’
‘She won’t drink it, I’ve tried. It will have to be something else.’
‘Yes, but what?’
‘Leave it to me, will you? Now if I were you, I’d take it easy. You look done in, and you need to rest,’ Tim was smiling as he said this.
‘I’m fine, a bit tired – that’s all. I might be old in your eyes, but I’m not ready for the knacker’s yard yet.’
‘Good for you, dad.’
He nodded, before returning back to Maria’s bedroom to lie down beside her sleeping figure, leaving her drink on the chest of draws.
Tim, who’d been walking behind him, closed the door.
In what seemed like no time at all, Bob heard Tim’s booming voice. ‘Come on you two lazy bones, you can’t sleep all day. Time to wake up – it’s a beautiful day out there.’
Bob realised he must have dropped off again, and opening his eyes he saw Tim pulling back the curtains, allowing bright sunlight into the room. Looking across, Maria moaned, her angst intensified by having just woke
n up.
‘Hope you’re hungry mum because I’ve rustled up a nice breakfast for you. A bowl of nutritious porridge, toast and marmalade, and a glass of orange juice – couldn’t be better eh?’
But Maria didn’t answer, she started to cry.
‘What’s the matter love? Just have a few spoonful’s – see how you get on.’
‘I can’t - I’ll throw up.’
‘Mum, it’s only porridge – it’ll do you good.’
She stared at it, with tears in her eyes.
‘Mum, if you don’t eat, you’ll die. Is that what you want?’
After eating a small portion of the porridge she placed her spoon on the tray in defeat. Shaking her head lamely and without uttering a word; it was obvious she’d had enough.
‘Why don’t you try to eat a bit more, mum?’
‘That’s enough, let’s leave her be now eh, Tim?’ Bob told him.
‘But, she hasn’t finished yet.’
‘She’s eaten all she can – all right?’
Tim sighed impatiently, and for the first time since his return, Bob got the impression Tim’s attitude towards his mother had become strained.
Having cleared everything away Tim suddenly said, ‘Dad, I need to order some shopping online.’
‘Of course, anything I can do to help.’
‘No, no, it’s all right – honestly, I can manage. And besides I don’t want to leave mum on her own. We’d never forgive ourselves if something happened to her.’
Tim did have a point.
‘I suppose you’re right.’
‘Ok, I’ll wash up and then I’ll get on the computer.’
‘I’ll help you …’
‘No dad, I won’t hear of it. I want you to look after mum.’
‘Well, if you’re sure?’
‘Of course I am.’
‘Do you need any money?’
‘Well, if I could borrow your bank card.’
Bob took the card from his wallet and handed it to him. ‘There should be plenty to cover whatever you need.’
‘Fine, thanks dad.’
A short time later after a few clattering sounds from downstairs, presumably he was washing up, he shouted. ‘I’m be in the living room on the computer if you need me.’ And the door slammed shut.
‘How are you feeling, love?’ he asked.
‘I’m all right. But I wish dad was here, and I could go and see mum. Tim, goes whenever he can.’ Bob noticed she seemed to pause uneasily before adding. ‘He told me she doesn’t say much, but according to the doctors she is improving.’
‘That’s good of him. I never dreamed I’d see the day when he’d be waiting on you hand and foot.’
‘He’s been an angel. When you think what he’s been through, and I know he feels responsible for dad’s death - because he couldn’t get him out. And that maybe why he’s a little overprotective, I think you might call it.’
But the expression on her face belied her words leading Bob to say, ‘Let’s hope you’re right. After all whatever he’s been through is of his own doing.’
‘I can hear doubt in your voice Bob, but please leave him alone, will you? Or I don’t know what he’ll do.’
‘What’s he doing about getting a job? And more to the point where’s he getting money from? I take it he’s signed on at the Jobcentre?’
‘No, he says he doesn’t want to take anything from the state. I’m giving him an allowance, and as for finding a job – he can’t at the moment, because he’s looking after me. He’s promised he’ll start looking once I’m better.’
‘And how much of are you giving him?’
‘Enough for him to buy whatever we needs. Please stop all this questioning – it’s making me feel worse. He hasn’t an ulterior motive and genuinely wants me to get better? He’s even talked to the doctor on my behalf.’
‘And what did the doctor say?’
‘Not much. I’ve already had blood and urine tests, and nothing showed up in those.’
‘And what’s he given you?’
‘Well he told Tim to get me that Complan which I should take three times a day, but the thing is, it tastes dreadful, so I have a glass early evening if I don’t manage to eat much during the day. Oh and I’m on antidepressants too, to help me cope with what’s happened.’
Bob looked hard at Maria. She was getting tired again, and when her eyelids kept shutting, it wasn’t long before she’d drifted off again.
He didn’t like this situation, it didn’t ring true. And with Maria asleep and Tim busy downstairs he got dressed, with the intention of having a good look in all the rooms upstairs.
With no idea what he was looking for he walked out onto the landing, and into Tim’s bedroom. Searching everywhere thoroughly, being careful not to disturb Tim’s belongings too much, he didn’t find anything suspicious. So he went on to the other bedroom, to discover the sparsely furnished room wasn’t being used and the cupboards were empty. Despite this, and no matter what Maria thought, he couldn’t dispel the feeling he had about the ‘
Chapter 36
‘Dad, what the hell are you doing down here?’
‘I fancied a breath of fresh air.’
Tim shook his head. ‘Come on, you should know mum can’t be left on her own.’ Gently he took hold of his dad’s arm. ‘Please go back and stay with her.’
‘Can I help you?’
‘Don’t be silly, dad – I can manage that perfectly well on my own.’
Bob frowned, but seeing Tim wasn’t going to budge, rather than argue, he went back upstairs.
Maria’s eyes were opening as he entered the bedroom. Bob smiled and sat back on the bed.
Soon afterwards they heard Tim coming up the stairs, and within a few seconds he was sitting on the bed next to Bob.
‘I ordered the shopping folks. So here we all are, back as one big happy family, like we were before I went away.’
Obviously Tim seemed pleased, if not overjoyed with himself, causing Bob to ask, ‘Why are you doing this for us?’
‘Why do you think? Because I love you both dearly and because it’s my duty to look after you; isn’t that what I’m supposed to do when you’re old? And now you’re back dad, mum will surely come on in leaps and bounds. This was meant to happen, for all of us to be together again.’ But the glint in his eyes contradicted his smile.
The tension in the room became thick as Tim glared at his father, causing Bob’s heart to quicken.
‘What’s the matter now, dad? Why are you giving me the evil eye? I can’t put a foot right in your eyes, can I? You know there’s only so much I’ll take from you.’
‘I can see through you Tim. You’re up to no good.’ Bob wagged an accusing finger at him.
Tim laughed out loud as if he’d just heard a hilarious joke. ‘You’ve got to be off your head, dad. How dare you come on to me with your ridiculous allegations.’ Tim balled up his fist in anger, but then appeared to regain control, as he continued, ‘You hurt me bad when you refused to believe what I told you about Debra – and now this.’ He hit the palm of his hand with his fist.
‘What’s behind this? That’s what I’m trying to work out. Why is it so important for me and your mother to be together again?’
‘Bob, please stop it.’ Maria told him, pulling his sleeve.
‘Why is it so difficult for you to believe those you love? First mum, and now me –’
‘What do you expect when you disappear for five years without a word to anyone and then come back refusing to give us an explanation? It’s no wonder -’
‘What does it matter? I came back, didn’t I?’ Tim looked angry again. ‘You’re making me lose my temper, dad.’
Bob didn’t speak, and neither did Maria.
‘Why should I bother – you ungrateful bastards. Well, see if I care.’ And at that he stormed out, knocking the door back against the wall with a bang.
The silence in the room was shattered when Maria uttered with a low sob, ‘
You’re ruining everything.’
‘Can’t help how I feel, Maria. And to use such language is unforgiveable. Added to that, he went to hit me.’
‘He’s been at the end of his tether with us – no wonder he snapped.’
‘Maria, it’s his own fault, if he hadn’t vanished in the first place things may have been different between us, we might not have split up. And if he thinks by threatening to leave he’ll get his own way, he’s wrong.’
But Bob soon realised she didn’t want to know the truth, would never see any wrong in him. Bob was on a knife-edge and in the end said, ‘I’ll have to talk to him, find out what’s going on in that head of his.’
Maria looked too upset to speak and shaking her head tiny drops of tears formed in her eyes.
For once he was lost for words, he reached for Maria’s hand and they sat together in silence. Eventually he heard Tim rummaging about and from the sound of pots and pans clattering it appeared he was busy in the kitchen.
Within minutes came the sound of footsteps up the stairs. Bob nudged Maria, who shrugged her shoulders warily.
Tim came in with a tray of food. Fish, chips and peas for both of them.
‘Mum, dad - sorry for earlier on,’ Tim said looking apologetic and humble. ‘I shouldn’t have lost my rag, but dad, you’ve got to stop saying these horrible things about me. You’re got it wrong and you’ll see that soon enough. Now then, dinner is served – so come on, tuck in. And mum, please eat as much as you can.’
Bob looked up at his son, then at the meals. Not knowing what to make of him. Perhaps these outbursts of his, were his frustrations, a way of letting off steam. Or words and actions on the spur of the moment, that he didn’t mean. Either way he found this unacceptable, he was a totally different Tim than the one he remembered, and how to deal with the dilemma remained unclear.
Slowly Bob ate the meal Tim had prepared. Maria, however, moved the food around on her plate eating very little. Before blurting out ‘It’s no good I can’t eat anything else.’
‘It doesn’t matter,’ Bob said.
She began to weep, putting her face into her hands.
‘I’ll get you a drink and those tablets, shall I mum?’