by Peter Martin
She nodded.
Bob looked a little puzzled. ‘Is there any need for more tablets?’
‘Yes. They’re antidepressants. The doctor said she can have one during the day if she feels particularly anxious,’ Tim explained, getting off the bed.
He went downstairs, while Bob leaned over to put their trays on the floor, and then put an arm around her. Finally she sat back against the headboard.
‘What am I going to do?’
‘I don’t know. Hopefully, you’ll be on the mend in a day or two. But are you sure you’re not keeping something from me?’
‘No, no, of course not.’
Tim returned with a glass of water and a couple of tablets. ‘Here mum, take these – they’ll make you feel better.’
Sniffing back the tears, she took them and gave Tim the empty glass. ‘Thanks Tim.’
‘You try to rest now mum.’
Maria slipped down in the bed, breathed in deeply and closed her eyes.
‘Are you going to finish your dinner, dad?’
‘No, take them away, will you?’
Once he was gone, Bob took hold of Maria’s warm hand. Suddenly she opened her eyes pulling back from him. As she tried to get up she started to retch and vomited all over the bedclothes.
Bob watched in disbelief and was about to put his arm around her again when she threw up again on the carpet. As she wept, Bob gave her a handkerchief to wipe her mouth.
‘It’s all right darling, let it come,’ he said quietly.
Thankfully she wasn’t sick again.
‘Come on, let’s get you in that chair over there, while I clean everything up.’
He helped her into the chair and pulled the bedspread off the bed.
‘What’s wrong with me?’ Maria pleaded.
‘It’s the virus you’ve got – there are so many of these about nowadays and they come in lots of different guises. But I’m sure you’ll pull through. It will come out of your system and then you’ll start to get better. Being sick, is nature’s way of doing that.’
‘Hey, what’s happened?’ Tim said, seeming to appear out of nowhere.
‘It’s all right, she was sick, that’s all.’
‘Ugh…’ Maria moaned, and Bob looked across to see her holding her stomach.
‘Mum – what’s wrong?’
‘I need the toilet.’
Bob and Tim jumped to it and helped her into the bathroom.
After locking the door, the sound of her throwing up again could be heard, which puzzled Bob as she’d had very little to eat so far that day. A few minutes later the door opened and Maria came out, her shoulders rounded, her face doubled up in pain.
‘Are you all right love?’
‘I… I don’t know. It still hurts. I need to lie down.’
They helped her back to the bedroom, and sitting her in the chair, hastily made-up the bed with new sheets and bedspread. When Maria sat up in bed Bob took hold of her hand but was surprised at how unperturbed Tim seemed. The lad had looked after his mother for several weeks now but to see someone so violently ill should have provoked more of a reaction.
‘Tim, you mother’s still in pain, go and get her a couple of painkillers – quickly now. If she doesn’t improve soon, we’ll have to call the doctor.’
‘Ok.’ Tim went downstairs and returned with a glass of water and two tablets. ‘What about if she throws these up too?’
‘We’ll see, won’t we?’
Maria sobbed, every now and again, and fidgeted about in a vain attempt to rid herself of the pain.
‘I’m not waiting much longer. If she remains like this, I’m phoning the doctor,’ Bob said feeling powerless to help her.
‘Well, what can he do? She’s taking the tablets, doing everything the doctor advised, so there’s no point in calling him out.’
‘Well, I think there is, and it beats doing nothing, doesn’t it?’
Why was the lad taking that attitude? Surely if he wanted his mum to get better he’d be willing to try anything. Why didn’t he want the doctor to come? What was he afraid of?
‘I can’t understand it. Dad, I’ve tried so hard to get her well, and I’ve failed miserably.’ He buried his face in his hands.
Filled with doubt Bob didn’t answer him.
‘Hey, look dad.’
Bob turned to see Maria more settled and breathing easier. ‘It looks like she’s gone to sleep. Let’s keep our fingers crossed.’
‘Dad, do you mind if I go out for an hour, I need a breath of fresh air.’
‘Yeah, you carry on. I’m sure I can cope with your mother on my own.’
‘Don’t get starting the tea. I’ll do it when I come back – all right?’
Bob nodded. ‘All right, see you later.’
Alone in the room with Maria sleeping peacefully Bob worried if she would recover and if so how long it would take.
He needed to take stock of this situation, and more especially his future. His life had changed so much over the last week and he would have to decide what he should do. There was his job for a start, from which at present he was taking annual leave, but soon he’d have to return to work or look for employment in Dexford. As for his house in Cliffburn, which he’d hastily left, he had no idea whether Debra was still living there, but sooner or later that would have to be sorted out too. His mind returned to Tim, and the unsettling feelings he had over him, but unless he had evidence, he could do nothing.
After a while tiredness seemed to overwhelm him and as he lay back on the bed, his eyes fixed on Maria. Suddenly a shooting pain crippled him in his abdomen as if someone had stabbed him with a sharp knife. In the quietness of the room he sensed a frothy substance running from the corners of his mouth and as he sat up was violently sick on the floor. He found it hard to move his limbs and dropped back onto the pillow. In an attempt to get help he tried to cry out, but his mouth wouldn’t open. Had he contracted the same virus as Maria, or was this something more sinister?
Looking across at her again how he wished she would wake. Dear God, what was happening to him? He couldn’t move an inch. His only hope was Tim, or were his worst fears about to come true.
Bob was trapped in his own body. The only parts unaffected by the paralysis were his eyes, his hearing and his brain.
The sound of the front door banging shut, followed by footfalls up the stairs made him wonder if at last help had arrived. The pain became almost unbearable, but might his life yet be saved.
The bedroom door creaked open, there stood Tim. His face emotionless, he appeared unmoved by the sight before him. His mother seriously ill and his father lying helpless and clearly in distress. And in that split second Bob knew his misgivings about his son had been realised.
‘Feeling a little under the weather, father. Must be connected to that nasty virus mum’s got. Or maybe it’s something you’ve eaten? Tut, tut, you really ought to be more careful. These things have a habit of doing permanent damage, from which you could very easily die.’ A demented smile came on the lad’s face.
Unable to take his eyes off Tim, Bob was terrified, thinking this was to be his end. And he was powerless to prevent it. But one question kept popping into his head – Why?
Chapter 37
Maria remembered exactly when she’d learnt the truth. The day after her father’s funeral. Despite taking a sleeping tablet that night, she hadn’t slept well, and wanted to shout for Tim to get her a drink. But realising it was early morning, and not wanting to disturb him, she thought it best to get it herself. But on her way to the bathroom she noticed his room was empty, and the bed looked as if it hadn’t been slept in. Feeling concerned, she went downstairs in search of him.
He was in the kitchen with his back to her, making up a breakfast tray; a bowl of cornflakes, a jug of milk, sugar and a plate of buttered toast. Oh bless him, she thought. Just as she was about to go in, something caught her eye, as fumbling in his pocket, he dropped a small envelope on the floor. She stood
watching him pick up the envelope and sprinkle a little of the powder from it into the teacup. Then from his other pocket he pulled out a bottle from which he took a pill and put it into the milk jug.
Drawing back from the doorway so as not to be seen, Maria glimpsed through the gap between the door post and the door. First Tim stirred the contents of the teacup and then the milk in the jug.
Panic stricken, Maria tiptoed back upstairs and got into bed, knowing she must pretend to be asleep. But lying there, she couldn’t work out what he was up to. Although it looked suspicious.
A few minutes later, came the sound of Tim coming up the stairs. A faint knock at the door, brought him to enter, and he coughed to clear his throat. Carrying on the charade she opened her eyes to see him standing there smiling, with a fully laden breakfast tray.
‘Here we are mum, breakfast. Hope you’re hungry?’
‘Not really,’ she said, puzzled by what she’d seen.
‘You’ve got to try to eat. I took the liberty of crushing a vitamin tablet and putting it in the milk and also there’s a spoonful of glucose powder in your tea. That ought to give you more energy and help build up your strength.’
She felt better, having heard this. Perhaps he had done as he’d said. But after witnessing the scene downstairs, seeds of scepticism had been planted. Thinking he wouldn’t have known she was watching him, she made up her mind to eat as much as possible. The cereal tasted the same, but the cup of tea tasted a little sweeter.
Afterwards tiredness swept over her, and sadness too at having had her father cremated. She must have fallen asleep and was woken later by Tim coming into the room.
‘How do you feel now, mum?’
‘A bit sick, but I’ll live.’
‘Would you mind if I went out for an hour or so while you have a rest? I’ve got to meet someone.’
‘No, of course not, you carry on. I don’t want you tied down to me for twenty-four hours a day. You have your own life to lead.’
‘Thanks mum, you’re a treasure. I’ll be back as soon as I can, and then I’ll do the dinner.’
Hearing him rush downstairs she wondered why he’d suddenly wanted to go out. And to meet someone… a friend perhaps? But who? In all the time he’d been back he’d never mentioned anyone – not an old or a new acquaintance.
Next came the sound of the front door slamming. Her curiosity got the better of her, she walked over to the window to see him cross over the road. It was no good, she had to find out where he was going, and more to the point with whom! She needed to find out just who this friend was.
With no time to get dressed she made her way downstairs, and quickly put on her full length mac, over the top of her nightie, from the hall stand. Next she took her boots from the cubbyhole under the stairs, forcing them on to her bare feet. After taking the spare key from the hook at the side of the door she rushed out.
Before long she had Tim in her sights and followed him as he turned left at the end of the road. She found it difficult to keep up, glad when he entered the park gates, to where she guessed he’d arranged to meet this person.
Within a few seconds she stood by the gates of the park, leaning up against one of the stone pillars for support to get her breath back. From this vantage point she could see him walking to the top of the slope where the old Tudor house stood. As he skirted the grassed area to the front of the building she moved on so as not to lose sight of him.
He walked by the putting green and down past the play area, leading her to the lake, positioned in the furthermost part of the park. This section was very dear to Maria as she’d often used this entrance by the lake when meeting friends as a teenager. Her parents’ house being only a stone’s throw away from the back of the park.
Once again she took cover, this time by the side of a tree and watched him sit down on a bench in front of the lake. This had to be the meeting place.
Before long a little boy with curly black hair, of maybe three or four years of age ran up to him. To Maria’s amazement the boy climbed on to Tim’s lap and hugged him. Soon a woman appeared, presumably the child’s mother, and gave Tim a long lingering kiss.
Maria wondered whether she’s seen the woman before, but nothing came to mind. What shocked her was that she looked very attractive, but much older than Tim.
Staring down at the ‘happy family’ Maria watched Tim run after the lad and give him bread to throw to the ducks on the lake.
He seemed close to this woman and her son. Could this boy be Tim’s son? The resemblance was uncanny, almost unbelievable.
After a while, they sat down, and within a few minutes a man approached them, wearing a hooded top. Tim stood up at once as if he’d been expecting him, and handed over a brown envelope and in return received a small white package which he put into his inside pocket. Tim turned round and continued to play with the small boy and the hooded figure disappeared from view. What was all that about, Maria wondered? And done with such a matter-of-factness, that Maria felt had she blinked she would have missed it.
She’d seen enough, and finding it too much to take in, decided to go back home. No point in letting Tim see her. So she moved away from the tree and started the long trek back. A lot had gone on in the last few weeks and this only added to her worries.
She felt physically and mentally drained, unable to erase the scene she’d witnessed in the park from her mind. First Tim with his ‘other family’, and then what appeared like a drugs transaction.
Five minutes later, a warm hand on her shoulder stopped her in her tracks.
‘Mum, what the hell are you playing at?’
She turned round to see the manic look on his face, his lips twitching with anger. Petrified, she attempted to speak, but could hardly get her words out. ‘I… I needed to get out of house… ’
He clenched her arm tightly, making her wince from the pain, and walked alongside her.
‘Oh really. I don’t think so, mother. You were following me, weren’t you? I saw you coming out from behind that tree. Very clever, aren’t’ you? Trying to find out my little secrets.’
‘No, I wasn’t, just curious – that’s all. It’s fine with me, Tim, it’s only natural for you to have a girlfriend, but the boy – is he your son? He looks so much like you and your dad. I’m happy for you Tim – it’ll do you good to settle down…’
‘Settle down. That’s a laugh. You shouldn’t have been so nosy, now what am I supposed to do about you?’
‘What do you mean?’
‘You’ll have to wait and see.’
They’d arrived back home in no time at all. Tim had kept her close to him by pretending to help her along, but really it was to prevent her from getting away. Once he’d opened the door with his key he gave her a firm push into the house, closing the door behind him.
With much reluctance she was dragged by the arm upstairs to the bedroom where he helped her off with her coat and pushed her on to the bed.
After leaving the room for a few minutes he returned with two of his old ties. All of a tremble, Maria felt her heart would burst when he got on the bed and tied first one hand to the bedstead and then the other. She found it hard to grasp, on top of everything else, that Tim could do this to her.
To her astonishment after fumbling in his pocket Tim placed a white tablet to her mouth, but she tried to resist by moving her head from side to side. He got angry saying ‘You’re going to take this if it’s the last thing I do. It’ll calm you down you fool.’
But she still continued to struggle, even when he held her nose and somehow shoved the tablet to the back of her throat.
‘Swallow the tablet, damn you,’ he said holding her mouth shut.
In the end she could do little else but to admit defeat. He laughed at her, when she shuddered with fear.
For a few seconds Tim stared at her without uttering a word, and gradually a strange wooziness came over her. She’d never been so frightened in her life, and the fact it was at her son’s hands mad
e it ten times worse. Soon her eyelids felt heavy, and she drifted off to unconsciousness.
When she woke, the light made her squint, and looking around she realised she was alone and her hands were untied. Struggling to get out of bed at once her head was fuzzy. Eventually though she made her way to the bathroom. When she came out, much to her astonishment Tim stood waiting for her with a tray containing a bowl of rice and a cup of tea.
‘Hi mum, feeling a little better now?’ He asked as if nothing had happened.
‘I’m all right,’ she mumbled without looking at him.
‘Good, let’s get you back in bed, and then you can have something to eat – ok?’
‘Mmm.’
‘Let me put the tray down and I’ll come and help you.’
‘I don’t need your help.’ She said, walking unaided back to the bedroom.
‘Have it your own way.’
He followed her into the bedroom and sat down at the bottom of the bed.
Maria got into bed saying stubbornly, ‘I’m not hungry.’
‘Come on, you have to be – after all you haven’t eaten much since yesterday teatime.’
‘Why are you behaving like this?’ Tears filled her eyes. ‘You’ve been so secretive. I needed to find out what else was going on in your life.’
He smiled. ‘Well, now you have some idea.’
‘But I don’t, not really. I saw you with a woman and a young boy, and then you seemed to do a deal with the man who approached you. What does it all mean? And why did you force me to take that tablet?’
‘Because you were getting agitated and needed to calm down. Why else? Now come on mum, eat your rice before it goes cold.’
Maria feared her son had an evil streak running through him, so strong she wasn’t sure she wanted to find out what he’d done. But finally she said, ‘I need some answers, Tim.’
Tim appeared to think about this for a while. ‘All right, if you’re that interested, I’ll tell you. The woman is my partner Libby, and the little boy is my son Carl…’
‘I thought as much.’
‘So are you ready to know the rest?’
She hesitated for a few seconds, her whole body pulsating ‘Y…yes, I am.’