by Dawson, H A
‘Why do you always think it’s my fault?’
‘Because it is! If you were normal, like other kids, this wouldn’t happen.’
‘Bitch,’ he muttered under his breath, and flung his bag on his bed.
She was not willing to desist, and scampered towards him, squeezed his arm and pushed his face to one side. He yelped. His arm was sore.
‘Lift your shirt.’
‘No . . . can’t make me!’
‘Lift it!’
‘No! Leave me alone!’ He elbowed past, rushing to the bathroom, and banged the door closed.
‘Tell me what you did, you useless cretin!’
‘Didn’t do nothing!’
He removed his shirt. His skin was sore and red, and bruises extended from his chest to his navel. He breathed slowly, fighting the burning pain that crippled with every breath, and he fought his welling tears. Outside the door, Maisie was whimpering and scratching. He wanted to hold her. It was not a risk worth taking, not whilst she was there.
Slouching on the sofa, Joe stared into space holding a mug of coffee, and pondered his day at school. The deliberately hurtful comments regarding his past endeavours were still rife, but thanks to Jade, they no longer held the same significance. He had even sniggered at one of the girl’s witticisms, much to her shock, and she had slipped away, embarrassed at the way he had been able to even the score. A smile settled on his face.
Nonetheless, he must not forget the pain that had been inflicted and the reason it had occurred, and remembered his need for retribution. Revenge always had had a sweet taste, although it was not always without consequence. With his beliefs wavering, he looked to Dawn for reassurance. Her legs were resting on the edge of the coffee table and her rounded belly acting as a support to her coffee mug.
‘I saw Jade again yesterday,’ Joe said.
Dawn stared, for a moment, holding his gaze. ‘What do you want, a prize?’
‘She’s stopped the investigation.’
Dawn grinned. ‘Best news I’ve had all day.’
‘I can be very persuasive when I want to be. I convinced her that it was working her up.’
‘And she believed you?’
‘She always was putty in my hands.’
‘Lets hope you’re right.’
‘I might see her again . . . to keep an eye on her.’
‘It’s bloody risky. What if she finds out?’
‘Why would she? I’m not going to tell her, and anyway I want to know if she’s suffering.’
‘And is she?’
Expressionless, he pulled a packet of cigarettes from his pocket, offered one to Dawn, and lit them with a lighter.
‘You’re asking for trouble if you ask me,’ she continued, ‘it’s not going to take her long to put two and two together.’
‘I don’t see why she would. Nothing’s going to slip out.’
Joe knocked the ash from his cigarette and reached for his coffee, and tried to ignore an unsettling ache resting in his stomach. Maybe she was right. The more he saw Jade, the more likely something would go wrong. He would be drawn into her kisses, her charms, and he would care for her suffering. That could not happen; it was not a risk worth taking.
A creaking sound in the hallway caught his attention. He placed the cigarette butt into the ashtray and headed out of the room. Dylan was scurrying upstairs, panic extending across his face. Joe followed him upstairs.
‘It’s not good to pry,’ Joe said.
‘I wasn’t.’
Joe stared, waiting for him to give in.
‘Who’s Jade?’ Dylan asked.
‘None of your business.’
‘Do I know her?’
‘She’s nothing to do with you.’
A scowl formed on his face. He seemed irritated and it was troubling.
‘And stop your prying. If your mum had caught you, you wouldn’t have lived to see another day.’
‘Who cares? I’m not afraid of her. She doesn’t give a toss about me.’
‘That’s not true.’
Dylan thrust his arms into his jacket sleeves, grabbed the dog’s lead, and signalled to Maisie to follow. He stomped down the stairs. The little dog was hot on his heels.
‘Be back for dinner,’ Joe called.
The bus screeched to a halt. It was a stop-start journey, and it added to Kath’s rising frustrations. She had spent the afternoon trailing the streets in town looking for a job, but to no avail, and she was starting to lose hope. Nothing was out there, and if there were, she would not be considered the best candidate. Other people were smarter, more personable, more experienced, and they didn’t have a history of petty criminal convictions. She was wasting her time.
Maybe Imogen was right; maybe she should fight for justice after her unfair dismissal from the department store. She may even get her job back, or in the very least, she would have the latest accusation removed from her record. Was it worth a try? Her hope was rising, as memories of her most favoured job lingered in the forefront of her mind. She would be worthy of something again; she would have money to spend on her daughters and she would make Liam proud.
Kath’s bus stop was approaching. She shuffled along the seat, grabbed the handrail, and walked like a drunk to the exit, swaying to the left and the right, and staggering into the seats. Holding on tight, she waited by the doors. The bus lurched to a standstill. She stepped off, appreciative of the security of still ground, and headed along the road towards her mother-in-law’s home.
The blustery air awakened Kath from her dreamlike state. Sweeping back her auburn hair and holding a carrier bag of things for the girls, she trundled along, reassessing her decision to fight the case. There was too much else going on and her mind lacked the clarity she needed to pursue the matter. She had made a promise to herself to deal with Jade first, and that is what she must do. One way or another, Kath would force her sister to admit to her failing.
An unsettling feeling washed over her as the interview with Luke and Imogen reiterated in her mind. Had she said too much? She had planned her answers to his perceived questioned, and had only wanted to say the absolute minimum, but the incident with the girls had thrown her out of kilter and her emotions were ragged. If it hadn’t been for Imogen’s easy manner, she would have postponed the meeting.
Trying to attain a tad of calmness, she told herself she had not given anything away. The last thing she had wanted to do was blurt out her frustrations, and she had come very close to saying too much, but she had managed to button her lip in time. Kath told herself she should be pleased with her composure.
Nonetheless, the simple fact that Jade had hired someone to seek out the truth to her past, which was ultimately what it was she was doing, was frustrating. If she looked a little harder, thought a little longer, she would realise the damage she had done. Hiding behind a claim of amnesia was feeble. Did Jade not think her worthy of any apology?
Her sister had always made her feel like crap.
Kath stomped the pavement, staring at the tiny strands of grass and weed growing between the slabs. She wanted to slap them down, pluck them from their futile lives and cast them away. They had no purpose, existed only to fail.
It seemed that’s what Jade thought of her. She had used her for her own purpose and then cast her aside. She didn’t feel it necessary to maintain a relationship of any kind. She was cold, harsh and self-obsessed.
A terrier dog bounded to her feet. Jerking backwards, she looked up.
‘Hi Dylan,’
‘Where you off to?’ he asked.
‘To visit the girls. They’re staying at their gran’s.’
He looked interested, as though he wanted a chat.
‘I’ve been out looking for a job all day. It’s a waste of time.’
‘I wish I could get a job.’ He adjusted the glasses. The frame was taped and there was a bruise on his face. ‘Then I’d get a place of my own.’
‘Problems?’
He stared at the
pavement and shuffled his feet.
‘I was the same at your age. I hated my family. But think carefully what you wish for . . . and keep your cool. I did some regrettable things and you can never take them back.’
‘What happened?’
Kath sighed. ‘How long have you got?’
‘As long as you wish.’
‘Sorry . . . rhetorical question.’
They started to walk. Dylan remained at her side, and kept glancing to her, encouraging her to speak. She didn’t want to say anything, believing since she was older, she should be nursing his wounds, but at the same time, she needed a listening ear. She glimpsed at him out of her eye corner. He did seem interested.
‘They all died in a fire. Only my sister survived. I wasn’t there at the time.’
‘What happened?’
‘It . . . it was an accident, they were meant to escape.’ She gulped, forcing back her rising tears. ‘My dad . . . he . . . he was depressed.’
‘He started it?’
Kath’s face scrunched and she forced the tension from her chest. Managing to gather a little calmness, she carried on. ‘I went to see him before he died. He said he was sorry . . . said it over and over again. But they were just words, meaningless words. It was too late to play happy families. He was dying, and . . . and . . . he had taken everything away from me.’
She leaned against a wall, and placed her carrier bag by her side. It seemed only moments ago, when he had lain in the hospital bed, burns scarring his entire body and his heart bleeding with his apologies. He knew he had done wrong, and he said all he could to put it right, but it would never have been enough. They had both known that.
‘Sorry isn’t always enough,’ Dylan said quietly.
‘What?’ she jerked her head, staring at his solemn face and glassy eyes. He seemed a little too upset considering he wasn’t involved, and wondered if they were talking at cross-purposes.
‘I shouldn’t be burdening you with my problems,’ she continued.
‘I don’t mind.’
‘Thanks, even so . . .’ her words evaded her. How could she tell him he was her junior and it wasn’t right to add to his burden without sounding patronising?
‘I’m a good listener,’ he said.
‘You are, and it is good to have someone to talk about it.’
‘Don’t you have your sister for that?’
‘No, we don’t get on.’
‘Why?’
‘She did something.’ Kath looked up, caught the intensity of his stare. ‘I can’t talk about it.’
‘You should tell her how you feel.’
‘I’ve tried. But she should realise for herself what she’s done. If I have to tell her, then her apology would be meaningless.’
‘I think unless you deal with things that upset you in a proactive way then the badness builds up inside. It turns into poison and spreads throughout your body.’
‘That’s very profound.’
Dylan lowered his chin and traced a paving stone with the edge of his shoe.
‘Maybe I should be a little more proactive,’ Kath said.
‘You should. She sounds selfish. She won’t change unless you make her.’
‘I am doing what I can.’
‘You should do more . . . force her to listen.’
‘Maybe. I’m sorry, I’m going to have to get going. My girls are expecting me.’
She reached her hand towards the carrier bag on the wall. It slipped from her grip and dropped to the floor. A sketchpad slipped onto the pavement, laying open at one of her drawings. Dylan reached down and peered at the simple sketch.
‘It’s for the girls to copy. It’s something they like to do.’
He passed her a blank look, pushed it into the carrier and handed it across.
‘Thank you Dylan.’
They sauntered along the road and parted company at her in-laws house, number twenty-nine. At the door, she hesitated, watched his diminishing figure stride towards the park, whilst his suggestion to force Jade into action, reverberated. She could be more assertive with her demands, was that wise? Her doubts lingered. She wondered if she had the energy.
Chapter 24
Years before, it had been one of their favourite spots, especially after dusk when the night sky was a reassuring blanket and the city lights twinkled, exuding a strange sense of security. She spent hours scanning the buildings, fields and roads in the valley below, she was not quite part of it, but enjoyed the sensation, yet at the same time knowing it was, within reach. Feeling like an all-powerful being watching over the miniature life, Jade believed she was invincible. It had been a magical sensation.
It had been a place for nursing her solemn thoughts and seeking out new resolutions and hopes; it had been a place for gathering courage and seeking justice; it had been a place to oust the negative in favour of the positive.
This time was different. She had had her thinking time, reached her conclusions, and felt happy with her decisions. Cancelling the contract with Luke had been the most positive of those, and she wondered why she had not done it sooner. She should never have let William coerce him into something she had not wanted to do. Putting up with the stalker was easier than sharing the traumas of her past. It had opened old wounds, and unnecessarily so.
She should have forced William to listen. It was wrong that he wanted to control her. Maybe, for some sick reason, he enjoyed witnessing her feeble nature. Perhaps it made him feel more masculine, or perhaps it made him feel indispensable in his role as her partner. Did he know she was drifting away? Whatever the reason, she had put a stop to his little game.
Smiling at her decision, Jade ambled down a rocky incline, careful to avoid the tussocks and loose stones, and arrived at a boulder where she sank onto the flat hard surface. To either side were fenced in gardens, and below, next to a well-used walkway, was a paddock. Well-groomed horses with swishing tails and smooth shiny coats munched on the fine blades of grass, whilst further down, two young teenage girls cleaned out the stables.
There was a presence at Jade’s rear. She spun around, and seeing it was Joe, leapt to her feet. After a lingering kiss and a pleasurable grope, she sat back down. He perched at her side.
‘I’ve decided William thinks I’m weak,’ she said.
‘Why?’
‘Because he forced me to hire Luke. Obviously, he didn’t think I could handle things myself.’
‘Then it’s good you’ve taken back some control. How did he take it?’
‘I haven’t told him yet.’
Joe nodded and gazed across the valley. ‘Luke was messing with your head. You’ve done the right thing. William will see that.’
‘I hope so. I just wish I’d have acted sooner, then I wouldn’t have messed up Kelsey’s life.’ She turned to Joe, sorrowful. ‘She’s still not speaking to me. I sent her a message this morning to ask her to ring and all I received was a brief text. I could tell she was angry, even though she never made any direct accusations. There was the lack of . . . I don’t know . . . humour or love, or something.’
‘That’s teenagers for you.’
‘She’ll talk to William. It’s just as if I don’t exist . . . or matter.’
Jade carried on ranting. After a few moments and realising Joe’s disinterest, she slipped into silence. He still did not speak, and gazed blindly at the view, absorbed in something indiscernible.
‘I wonder if our kid would have been like that.’ Jade said.
Joe stood up, edged a few steps forward, and slipped his hands into his pocket. ‘Probably. They all are, aren’t they?’
‘Do you ever think about him?’
‘All of the time.’
‘Really? I didn’t think you would.’
She stepped towards him, pulled his hand from his pocket and squeezed herself under his arm. He was a little stiff and held an impassive expression, and neither warmed to her touch nor pushed her away.
‘Something wrong?’
She chased after him. ‘Joe?’
‘This is a bad idea . . . we’re both married . . . it’s not going to work.’
‘What? Why? We’re good together. They don’t need to know.’
He unlocked the car doors and headed to the roadside.
‘What have I done?’
He climbed inside. He was not going to answer and looked intent on disappearing from her life without a word, an explanation, nothing. For a moment, feeling powerless, she stood at the rear of the car and gawped. He started the engine. Feeling a sudden urgency to resolve the situation, she ran to the passenger side and opened the door.
‘No Jade. You have to let me go.’
She hesitated, but seeing the distress in his face, climbed inside. ‘Just give me an explanation. I deserve that much.’
‘There’s nothing else to say. We’re not kids anymore . . . we both have someone else.’
‘That’s never bothered you before.’
‘I’ve changed. We both have. You’re . . . you’re different.’
‘No.’ Panic rose to her throat. ‘Our feelings are real, that won’t change. We do something to each other. You said it yourself. Don’t throw it away.’
Joe stared out of the windscreen, not blinking, not moving his focus from a spot on the road. He was resolute in his actions, and despite her pleading eyes, he did not pass her even the briefest of glances.
‘Are you angry with me?’ Have I done something wrong?
He did not respond.
She reached across, touched his leg. ‘Joe, talk to me. I don’t understand what’s happened. This is so out of the blue.’
‘What we had was over years ago. We should never have . . .’ his voice drifted. ‘You shouldn’t have contacted me.’
‘You said you had wanted me to. You enjoyed it. I know what I saw.’
Their eyes locked. There was no love in his eyes, or a sense of imminent loss; instead, it was more like pity and confusion. It was baffling. What had she done wrong? Was it because of the stalker? Was it because she had allowed him into her home whilst William was away? Was it because she had ranted about Kelsey?