On His Grave

by Farrar, M K

  On His Grave

  M K Farrar

  Published by Warwick House Press, 2019.

  This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.

  ON HIS GRAVE

  First edition. June 6, 2019.

  Copyright © 2019 M K Farrar.

  Written by M K Farrar.

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Chapter Twenty-two

  Chapter Twenty-three

  Chapter Twenty-four

  Chapter Twenty-five

  Chapter Twenty-six

  Chapter Twenty-seven

  Chapter Twenty-eight

  Chapter Twenty-nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-one

  Chapter Thirty-two

  About the Author

  Also by the Author

  Dedication

  Chapter One

  “You’ve got to be kidding me!”

  Kristen Scott stared down at the letter she’d just opened and put out a hand to support herself against her hallway wall. Her stomach dropped, and she sucked in a shaky breath.

  The letter from the energy company blurred as her eyes filled with tears. How could they do this? An increase of fourteen percent on both her gas and electricity bills due to rising costs, the letter informed her. Yeah, right. As if they needed that money. Profits of billions were probably nothing to them, and here she was crying over having to find another nine pounds a month to pay for the absolute bare necessities.

  She’d barely been managing to scrape by as it was. She put the heating on for an hour at night if it got really cold, but, even then, she only put it on in her son’s room. She made sure Ollie got the first bath, and then she jumped into his water after him. Sometimes, if the cold had got right down to her bones, she sneaked in with him, but he’d soon be at the age where the last thing he’d want was suffering his mother naked in the bath with him. She didn’t even cook food that meant the oven going on for any length of time—not that she could afford anything more exciting than pasta with a bit of grated cheese on top, or a potato she’d blasted in the microwave. Ollie got free school meals during term time, and she could last without lunch herself, but things were even harder during the holidays when she had to find three meals a day for him.

  You didn’t take care of those pennies, Kristen, her mother’s voice tutted in her head. What did I always say to you about taking care of those pennies?

  But she had. She’d always looked after the pennies, and the pounds as well. She didn’t have any choice. But it never seemed to make any difference.

  “Mummy, what’s wrong?”

  Kristen glanced down to see her five-year-old son staring up at her, his brown eyes—eyes so like hers—wide with worry.

  She forced a smile. “Oh, nothing, sweetheart. Just stupid old bills.”

  His lips twisted. “Do they want more money?”

  It broke her heart that he even knew she worried about how much everything cost—not that it was surprising. She felt as though every other thing that came out of her mouth was ‘no, we can’t afford it.’

  She blinked furiously to hold back the tears. “Only a little. It’ll be okay.” Putting her arm around his narrow shoulders, she gave him a squeeze. “Nothing for you to worry about.”

  He looked at her as though he didn’t believe her, and she knew she had to distract him. “Hey, shall we go and play with your Play-Doh? We can make some ugly monster.”

  Ollie’s eyes lit up. “Yeah, I’m going to make a green snot monster!”

  “Eww, that sounds disgusting.”

  “It is!” he enthused. “Really extra disgusting.”

  The boy bounded away to the dining room table where she always insisted they did messy games, and Kristen followed, pushing away the sinking in her gut. Sometimes it felt as though everything was trying to trample her down. It had been almost two years since Stephen had left, and she’d imagined things would have got better by now. But instead, things seemed even harder, especially since Stephen and his new wife had had their own baby together. The new wife—Lisa—already had a little girl of her own, the same age as Ollie, and now they had a brand-new baby together to complete their little family. Stephen was supposed to have Ollie every other weekend, but since the baby had been born, he was cancelling more often than not, leaving her to mop up the tears of their disappointed son. Though she wished she could voice her frustrations and tell Ollie how Stephen was putting the new baby before his eldest son, she managed to clamp her mouth around the words and come up with excuses instead—Daddy was poorly, or something came up with work. And she always finished up with how sorry Stephen was and how much he’d miss Ollie, even though those words had never come out of Stephen’s mouth. Saying the truth of how things really were might make her feel better, but only temporarily. She knew she’d regret it as soon as the words came out of her mouth. They’d only cause Ollie pain, and that was one thing she couldn’t stand.

  This news about the hike in energy costs was just another kick in a long line of kickings. Her job in the office of Ollie’s school wasn’t enough to keep them going. Sometimes she thought she’d be better off not working at all and claiming benefits instead, but the idea made her heart sink even further. She liked being at the school, spending time with the kids and staff. The prospect of sitting at home, alone, every day was heart breaking.

  No, something needed to change. She didn’t know what, but she couldn’t go on as they were. She felt like her life was slipping between her fingers.

  The house was the one thing she’d kept from her broken marriage, though there were plenty of times she wondered if she’d have been better off to sell and take the small amount of equity in the property. At least then she’d have some money in the bank. But the fact of the matter was that their mortgage was small, and with Stephen still paying half, there was no way she’d be able to rent somewhere privately for less money. The waiting list for council properties was huge, and they wouldn’t even look at her if she owned her own home. The agreement was that she and Stephen would continue to pay the mortgage together until Ollie reached eighteen or finished full time education, and then they’d sell—hopefully mortgage free—and divide the money between them.

  Besides, she loved her house. It had been her home for six years now, and the idea of moving into a tiny, two-bedroom flat with no garden made her soul weep. She’d figure it out. She had to.

  The weekend stretched ahead of her, trying to get through each hour until it was time to go back to bed. It was difficult to find things to do when there was no money in the bank. She took Ollie down to the park, or to ride his little second-hand bike down by the river. Sometimes, she got invites to go to one of the other mums’ houses for a bite of lunch, or even a cup of tea while the boys played, and she was always inherently grateful for those kinds of invitations. When they involved paying out money—going to the zoo or taking the kids swimming—she always had to beg off with some excuse or another. The other parents in Ollie’s year had given up inviting her on nights out. She always
said it was because she had Ollie and couldn’t afford a sitter. Truthfully, her sister, Violet, could have had him for a few hours at a push, though leaving Ollie with Violet always made Kristen nervous. But she couldn’t afford the overpriced drinks and couldn’t bring herself to waste money like that even if she had it. Instead, she watched their group messages they were always polite enough to include her in, even though there was never any chance of her going, seeing how much fun they were having and trying not to feel bitter about it.

  “Come on, then,” she told her son, forcing herself to smile and shoving the letter from the energy company into the rack containing all the other mounting bills. “Let’s see who can make the most disgusting Play-Doh monster.”

  MONDAY MORNING FINALLY arrived. Sometimes, Kristen felt like she must be the only person who looked forward to the working week rather than being at home.

  “Hey, how was your weekend?” asked Anna, the woman she shared her school office job with.

  The school was small, with barely a hundred pupils on a good day. The two women managed the office between them, chasing paperwork from the parents, handling new intakes, and tallying lunch money, amongst a million other things. It was busy and sometimes stressful, and obviously the money wasn’t exactly great, but it meant Kristen was able to drop off Ollie at the school’s breakfast and afterschool club without any charge, and she was off at the weekends and school holidays so she was always there for him. Of course, she wished she was able to earn more, but she had to think about Ollie. His father was so unreliable these days, and she couldn’t depend on her sister for childcare, so she needed something that would work around him, and this job was perfect for that.

  “It was fine,” she said with a tight smile, trying not to think about how she’d spent last night crying into her pillow in the hope she didn’t wake Ollie.

  Anna frowned at her. “Really? You seem a bit pale this morning.”

  Kristen knotted her hands in her hair, her elbows on the desk as she shook her head. “Oh, it’s nothing. Just money stuff. Bills seem to keep creeping up all the time, and sometimes I’m not sure how I’m going to keep paying them.”

  “Isn’t Stephen helping you out?”

  “He pays the bare minimum of what the courts told him. Now he’s got the new baby, he keeps saying he doesn’t have spare cash for anything extra. Ollie put a hole in his school trousers at the end of last week, and I had to buy a new pair. Then I got a letter from the energy company to say they were putting the bills up. I know it doesn’t seem like much, but all these little things keep adding up.”

  Anna gave her a sympathetic smile, but Kristen knew she didn’t really understand. Anna’s husband worked as someone important in a big firm and brought in a more than decent wage. Anna said they needed the money from her job, but she had no idea what it was really like to need money. They took several foreign holidays a year, and Anna’s children did pony club at the weekend. Anna’s blonde hair was always shiny and freshly cut, her nails professionally manicured, her clothes and beauty products top of the line. She didn’t know how it felt to feed your child pasta three days in a row because you literally couldn’t afford anything else.

  Anna pursed her pretty lips and tapped her pencil against them. “Your house is a three bed, isn’t it?”

  “Yes, that’s right.”

  “What about getting a lodger?”

  Kristen wrinkled her nose. “Yeah, I’ve thought about it. The idea of giving some stranger access to my home is worrying, though. How do I know they won’t be a complete creep? I’ve got Ollie to think about, and I don’t want to bring a stranger into the house if they might turn out to be a weirdo.”

  “I know what you mean. What about if the person is already vetted, though?”

  She shook her head. “I don’t trust letting agencies, if that’s what you mean.”

  “No, it isn’t. I’m thinking about foreign students. I know the university is always looking for housing near to town.”

  “Foreign students? You mean teenagers?”

  She shrugged. “They have teenagers, sure, but they also look for people who are willing to house mature students for longer periods. I think they’re still young, but they’re technically adults, and they’re really here to study, so it’s not like they’re out partying or anything like that.”

  Kristen twisted her lips. “I don’t know. It would feel strange having someone else living in the house.”

  “Well, have a think about it. It’s good money. I think you can get two hundred pound a week, if you feed them, too, and it’s tax free.”

  Her mouth dropped. “Seriously?”

  “Yep, seriously.”

  The idea of an extra two hundred pounds a week was mind-boggling. It would make a massive difference to her—to Ollie, too. She could stop saying she couldn’t afford things every time he asked for a new toy, or to go swimming, or to soft play. A foreign student wouldn’t be as bad as having a random stranger in the house. They wouldn’t have a ton of friends and other family around, so they would be forced to become a part of hers, in a way. Something about the idea resonated with her. She didn’t want a stranger living in her home, but having someone who might feel like a part of the family, and would share meals with them, felt right. She had been lonely since Stephen left, and having a five-year-old around wasn’t the same as another adult. She missed having someone to talk to, and a foreign student would want to talk to her, wouldn’t they? They’d appreciate being able to practise their English.

  Kristen got on with the day’s jobs. There was a residential coming up for years five and six, and at least half the parents hadn’t filled in the paperwork or paid the final instalment yet. She hated chasing other parents for money—always putting herself in the position of parents who might be making excuses about why they hadn’t paid yet, when the truth was that they were simply too embarrassed to admit they couldn’t afford it. There were schemes to help people on low incomes pay, but everyone was too proud to apply for them, unless they were desperate. At lunch time, she waved to Ollie as he went into the hall to eat, and then got distracted with having to mop up a bloodied knee of a boy who’d fallen in the playground.

  She was always busy at work, which was probably why she enjoyed it so much. There was no time for wallowing in her own problems when there were one hundred little people running around, all demanding her attention. The day went quickly, and before she knew it, she was picking Ollie up from afterschool club and walking him home. The boy chatted at a million miles an hour, and she tried to focus on everything he was saying, throwing in questions of her own when he broke to take a breath, but her mind kept going back to what Anna had told her about taking in foreign students.

  She approached the house and spotted someone in the bushes beside the driveway.

  “Lemmy. Come here, boy.”

  Her massive tabby cat emerged from the foliage, stretching lazily and yawning, as though he was more than happy to do things in his own time and keep her waiting. Finally, he sauntered over, and she bent and scooped him up in her arms. His fur was warm and dusty from dirt where he’d been rolling around. He was heavy, but she told herself he was just chunky.

  “Haven’t quite worked your way around to your summer body, have you, buddy?” she told the cat, burying her nose into his soft fur. “I know the feeling.”

  She carried him back into the house and emptied a sachet of supermarket brand food into his bowl. He tucked in, not caring that she wasn’t able to afford any of the expensive stuff. She’d got Lemmy before Ollie was even conceived. He’d been a tiny, fluffy kitten, and she’d named him after the frontman of a rock band she’d loved in her what would now be considered emo years. The name didn’t suit him in the slightest then, but somehow, she’d known he would grow into it, which he most definitely had. Ollie loved Lemmy too, and the cat often found his way into the boy’s bed. She’d discover Lemmy lying alongside Ollie, purring with Ollie’s arm slung around his waist, both their he
ads on the pillow.

  So, no, she couldn’t give up the cat, even though the money she spent on his food would have helped her have better meals for herself. She’d have gone hungry rather than be without him.

  That evening she made dinner for Ollie—instant noodles topped with beans and a scraping of cheese—and then let him have a little unprecedented weekday television to allow her to go online and search what Anna had told her about boarding students. It seemed her colleague was right, and Kristen’s heart sped up in both anticipation of all that extra money and the possibility of having someone in her home again. It had been just her and Ollie for so long now. She wasn’t sure how it would be with another person in the house. At least if it was a student, she would still be the one in control, plus the university would screen the candidate before she put them up in her home. They would have to do things her way, as they’d be fully aware that she was putting them up, and this wasn’t an equal share situation. This was still her house, and whoever stayed here would have to go by her rules.

  She sucked in a breath. Besides, this wasn’t about her. Sure, she might feel a bit awkward at first, but it could completely change things for Ollie. It often felt lonely here, just the two of them, and she was sure he’d love to have another younger person around. And it would mean he’d no longer find his mother crying in the hallway over a letter she’d just received, and he could go swimming with his friends, and out for lunch, and she could take him for days out at the zoo.

  Her mind made up, Kristen pulled up the form she needed to fill in to apply to be a host and quickly filled it in and hit send. For all she knew, they might not need any more host families, but at least she’d done something proactive to try to change her situation.

  Chapter Two

  Kristen’s phone had been ringing all afternoon, but she wasn’t going to answer it. Not yet, anyway.

  The number displayed belonged to her younger sister, Violet, and she knew answering the call was going to throw some kind of drama at her front door. Besides, she was at work, and they weren’t supposed to deal with personal stuff outside of their lunch and coffee breaks, unless they were a real emergency. She was sure whatever Violet wanted would constitute an emergency in her mind, but not to Kristen. Yet she couldn’t bring herself to switch the phone off, just in case.