by Chris Curran
I told him and he sent me back down, promising to do a careful drive around. Alice rang and said Mark’s dad was doing the same in their area, with Mark advising him where to look.
I could do nothing except peer from the windows of each room in turn and pace the floor, my whole body clenched. After a few minutes of this I could stand it no longer and knocked on Nic’s door.
‘What’s up? You look awful,’ she said.
I explained about Tom. ‘He lives with my sister and he’s disappeared.’
‘I’m sure he’ll be all right, darling. I mean we’ve all been teenagers, haven’t we?’ I thought of my teenage years and how lucky I was to survive them,, and almost laughed. It would have been a miserable kind of laugh, however, because by now I was really panicked.
It was all my fault. Of course Tom was vulnerable. When he talked about Toby it was clear he was carrying a huge burden of guilt. And I had done nothing to help him.
I called Alice and she said she had rung the police, but doubted it would be a priority for them. When Kieran came back he said he’d take a walk through the town and check all the arcades, the funfair, and the cafés. He told me to ring his mobile with any news, otherwise, he would keep looking.
It was near midnight when I heard him in the hall, but my surge of hope was short-lived. He was alone, looking exhausted. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said, following me inside.
The phone rang.
‘He’s here,’ was all Alice said, and I sank onto the sofa, a throb deep in my chest. I managed to ask if he was all right and she told me he was, her voice sounding as drained as I felt, and we agreed to leave anything else till morning.
It wasn’t until Kieran said, ‘I’ll get it,’ that I registered the tap on the door. As I heard him talking quietly to Nic, I felt a huge weight descend on me. I just wanted it all to stop.
Then Kieran’s warm hand was on my neck and I stood and moved into his arms. After a while I looked up and kissed him. His hands cupped my face, and his lips were gentle, but I pressed hard against his mouth. My hands moved down his body, the solidity, the pressure of him against me, making me frenzied, desperate to wrap myself around him, to have him with me, in me, right now.
He pulled back and looked into my eyes, but I didn’t want to look at him, just to have him filling that aching emptiness. I pulled him towards the bedroom.
Chapter Twenty-One
‘Clare, are you sure?’ Kieran asked.
I didn’t answer, didn’t want to talk, and when I kissed him again, he began to pull at my trousers and thrust me back onto the bed. I kicked my legs free and, just like that, the desperate need disappeared and I looked down from a great distance at my naked legs, made ridiculous by the sock hanging from one foot. He was still fully clothed, his face concentrated, very dignified in contrast to me with my sweatshirt rucked up to reveal a pallid stomach.
I pulled myself up to sit on the edge of the bed, unable even to look at him.
He knelt in front of me. ‘What’s wrong?’
‘It’s not you … I’m sorry.’
He looked down at my feet and, with a smile, pulled off my sock and kissed my foot very gently. I shivered and he pulled the duvet around me. As he turned to go, I caught his hand.
‘Please, Kieran, stay.’
He lay beside me, outside the covers, and I rested my head on his chest. His heartbeat was strong and steady and I focused on listening to it, thinking of nothing.
After a while he started to talk. And it was the kind of talking you might do after you’ve made love. A rambling account of his life, his breakdown, and his hopes for his photography. I said nothing, but he seemed to understand that I was happy just to listen. Eventually he told me how worried he was about his mum. ‘She was diagnosed just a few weeks after Dad died – cancer too. So she thought that was it. But they caught it in time and she’s been fine. Until now, when it’s come back with a vengeance.’
‘I’m so sorry. And I’ve been bothering you with all my problems.’
His answer was to kiss me and, as I pressed closer, he pulled back the covers. He looked steadily at me as I took off the rest of my clothes. But when I felt his warm skin against mine and looked up into his green gaze it was suddenly Steve’s grey eyes I saw. I turned away, feeling the tears slide from under my closed lids as I muttered, ‘Sorry, I’m sorry,’ again.
Kieran touched my shoulder and I turned back to look at him. He stroked my wet cheek. ‘You’re thinking about your husband,’ he said. I could only nod and close my eyes as they filled up once more. Kieran kissed my cheek and the corner of my mouth where I could taste the salt of my tears. ‘He would want you to be happy.’
I shook my head. I killed him, I killed Steve. I don’t deserve happiness. But when Kieran kissed me this time I felt myself respond.
Our lovemaking was quiet and gentle, as if our bodies already knew each other.
Afterwards, suddenly shy, I turned away again but he held me close: the length of his body pressed against mine, his face buried in my hair. The bedroom curtains were open and the sky looked faintly milky with a suggestion of dawn; only this moment existed: my body in a state of peace, my skin humming from his touch.
I spoke to him, then, about what Lorna had told me and how it might explain why I’d taken those pills; about Tom’s reaction to the news and even what I had told no one else: the details of those flashes of memory.
After a while he lifted my hair to kiss the back of my neck, and sat up. ‘I don’t want to move; want to stay just like this,’ he said, ‘but I’m starving.’
As soon as he was gone, the calmness I’d been feeling disappeared, and my brain began twisting and turning again until I felt it would burst. Had I betrayed Steve? And had I used Kieran to stop myself from thinking? To stop thinking about the fact that I knew why I might have been tempted back to drugs? About why my dad had kept his secret all those years? And, above all, to avoid facing the knowledge of how troubled Tom was and how angry with me he must be?
Because I knew it must have been Tom who’d taken the DVD and torn the place apart.
I pulled on my dressing gown and found Kieran coming out of the kitchen with a tray.
‘I was bringing it back to bed,’ he said.
But I walked over to the window. ‘Can we stay out here for a bit?’ I stood staring into the night. The hint of dawn had disappeared and a single light shone in the black absence of the sea: a boat moving slowly through the nothingness, night fishing.
He was behind me and, as I felt the warmth coming from him, I had a sudden memory of Alice on that first day here. Had it really been only weeks since then? I leant into his body, welcoming his closeness.
We stayed there as we ate the toast he’d made. Then I faced him again and he opened my dressing gown and began to kiss my yellowing bruises, one by one. But his lips on my skin seemed to light something inside and I didn’t want gentleness from him now. I grabbed his hand and pulled him back to the bedroom. We made love again, so fiercely this time that, at the end, we lay apart as if afraid to touch.
He slept for a while, but I was wide awake and as it became light I knew I must make sure I was fit to cope with work today. In the kitchen, as I made some tea, I saw Mr Hillier’s letter on the table. It hardly seemed possible that I’d only opened it last evening. I wiped away a smear of butter and took the letter back to bed.
Mr Hillier wrote:
*
Your visit made quite an impact on me, as did your letter. I was particularly moved by the note from your son, of course. It must be some considerable consolation for you to have such a loyal young man by your side and I do hope the two of you can begin to make a new life for yourselves. Believe me, Mrs Glazier, I have always felt a lot of sympathy for you. As a parent myself I know the terrible loss you have suffered was a far greater punishment than anything the law could inflict.
In fact I have managed to speak to Jacob Downes, by phone, on your behalf. Unfortunately he refuses to hav
e any contact with you, which doesn’t surprise me. However I did persuade him to talk a little about that night. Mostly this was a repetition of what he told the court, but he said something several times that I’d never heard before and I think it might comfort you. His words, as precisely as I can recall them, were, ‘She tried to help them, really tried and so did I. So we didn’t do anything wrong.’
Of course you were unconscious by the time I saw you, but if what he says is correct, it seems clear that you were desperate to save your family, despite your own injuries. He probably still feels guilty that he couldn’t do more. That was certainly the impression he gave me.
It was kind of him, but it didn’t help much. I’d never doubted I would have tried to get to them if I’d been able. He’d added his phone number and email address so at least it looked like he’d be prepared to talk to me again.
Kieran stirred and reached out for me and part of me longed to fall back into his arms again. Instead, I passed him the letter.
‘Not much use is it?’ he said, when he’d read it. He lay back on the pillows and picked up the photo frame from the bedside table, studying the three faces. ‘This is Toby then. He looks a lovely lad too.’
He didn’t mention Steve, but I was very conscious of my husband’s face smiling out of the frame and suddenly I needed only to be alone. Bone-weary, I crawled from bed, knocking over my full mug. I left the tea to soak into the carpet and dragged myself to the bathroom, asking myself what the hell I was doing adding Kieran to the rest of my worries.
The phone rang. ‘Hi, Clare – Stella.’ I stared at the clock; it was only just after 7.30. ‘I’m ringing to say, take today off.’ Before I could tell her I was fine, she went on. ‘I happened to call Alice last night, and she told me about Tom. I’ve just spoken to her again and I gather he didn’t get back till all hours, so I can imagine you didn’t sleep much and you already looked done in yesterday.’
When I tried to protest again, she was firm. ‘I’m not arguing with you. You’ll be of no use to me anxious and exhausted. Have a day to sort yourself out. Harriet can do your shift.’
It sounded like an ultimatum, but I was too tired to care. There was nothing I wanted more now than to sleep, but that would have meant going back to bed. And to Kieran.
Thank God, he came out already dressed. I pretended to be searching for something in the fridge, but he put his arms around my waist, his lips close to my ear, and I felt the thrill of his touch shiver through me again. ‘It’s no good, the cupboard is bare,’ he said. ‘But I’ve got bacon and eggs upstairs. Back in a minute.’
He must have left the door ajar because I heard, ‘Morning, Clare. Everything all right?’ and Nic stood in my hall, Molly in her arms. ‘Kieran said your boy got back all right.’
I tightened the belt of my dressing gown, feeling the heat rise in my face. ‘Yes. Thanks so much for looking out for him.’
She raised her eyebrows as Kieran ran downstairs. ‘Morning Kieran. Sorry I can’t stay for breakfast, some of us have to work.’ Was I imagining it or did she look upset? I told myself I must have been because as she went out the front door she gave a little laugh and shouted back, ‘Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do, will you?’
‘Well, so much for keeping it to ourselves,’ he said, as he put a pan on the stove.
Alice phoned when I was trying to eat a little of the breakfast Kieran had cooked, very conscious of his warm hand on my bare knee. I took the phone over to the window.
She said she was keeping Tom home from school. Following advice from Emma, the psychiatrist, she had said nothing much when he got back last night and he had gone straight to his room. ‘I’ve left him to sleep. Martha, our daily, will keep an eye on him and ring me if there are any problems and I can be home early this afternoon. I’ll talk to him then and let you know.’
I told her about Stella. ‘I’ve got the whole day free, so I’ll come over and try to speak to him myself, shall I?’
‘Best leave it, Clare. I’ve been through this kind of thing with him before.’
A surge of real anger went through me. This was my responsibility. I took a breath. Be calm. ‘But this is different. It’s all to do with what I told him the other day and if I avoid him now it’ll be like telling him I don’t care if he’s upset.’
Her voice was very calm too. ‘I just want to make sure he’s ready to hear what you have to say.’
‘I think I can manage.’ I wanted to tell her that Tom was my son and I knew how to talk to him, but of course that wasn’t true. I willed her not to argue because I was afraid of what I might blurt out if she did.
‘OK, Clare, fine. Just be careful will you?’
‘Of course I will.’ I made an effort to make my voice warmer. ‘And when you get home you can relax while I cook us all some dinner.’
She gave a small laugh. ‘That’s the best offer I’ve had today. See you later.’
I went straight to the bathroom to shower and dress, putting Tom’s crumpled list of questions in my bag, along with Hillier’s letter.
Kieran had washed up and was standing by the window in the living room. He turned and smiled. ‘How are things with Tom?’
‘Alice is keeping him home from school today. I’m going over to see if he’ll talk to me.’
He stretched and yawned. ‘I could do with some fresh air. I’ll drive you.’ My doubts must have showed on my face because he laughed. ‘It’s all right, I’ll make myself scarce.’
It seemed easier to go along with him and in the car I pretended to doze, wondering what the hell kind of mess my life was in. The trouble was, my anxiety about being in a car, especially on a country road like this, made it impossible to sustain the pretence for long. And I was soon sitting upright, one hand on my door, my foot pressing at an imaginary brake, as I looked out at the trees, the light slanting through their branches.
Gradually, our speed increased on the long straight road and I gripped the edge of my seat. As the trees flashed by, Kieran glanced over at me. I swallowed, trying to get a look at the speedometer, certain we must be going too fast. Then I saw a lorry approaching on the other side of the road and clutched at Kieran’s arm.
The car swerved and there was a blast from the lorry’s horn. It passed within inches of us as we slowed and bumped onto the grass verge. When we were stationary Kieran turned to me, his face twisted.
‘What the fuck are you doing?’
My breath was coming in harsh gasps that hurt my chest, and it seemed an age before I could speak. ‘I’m sorry, but you were going so fast.’
‘It’s a clear road and dead straight.’ He turned off the engine and, in the silence that followed, my breath began to steady itself, but I needed to get out into the fresh air. I bent over, certain I was about to be sick, but as I stood on the grass, with the quiet countryside all around me, my heart slowed and the churning in my stomach calmed.
Then Kieran was behind me, solid and warm, holding me close and whispering that he was sorry too. ‘I should have thought. You’re bound to be scared of speed. I just enjoy putting my foot down but I promise, never again.’ He turned me towards him for a long kiss, until a hoot and a shout from a passing car had us pulling apart. Laughing, Kieran gave the driver the finger. ‘Come on, before we get arrested.’
After that, he drove sedately, smiling over at me every so often. Finally, he put his hand on my knee. ‘I realise this is difficult for you, and that’s fine. I just want you to know I can wait and I’d love to help in any way I can. Or I can keep out of it if that’s how you want it.’
I had no idea how to respond with anything more than a, ‘Thank you,’ but he seemed happy enough with that.
‘You know earlier, when you got upset about my speeding?’ he said. ‘I wondered, for a minute, if you’d had one of those memory flashes.’
‘No, nothing like that. I was just scared.’ As I watched his neat brown hands on the wheel, my skin quivered to a different memory: the memory of his touc
h. Then I forced myself to think, not about him, but about what I needed to do for my son.
‘I know Tom’s never going to be happy until I can tell him I’ve remembered everything, but what if I never do?’
He didn’t answer for a moment, concentrating on the road as another car overtook us. ‘Well, I suppose you could always tell him you have remembered.’
‘No, I promised I wouldn’t lie to him.’
‘Even if it’s for his own good?’
I had nothing to say to that and, as we reached another stretch of straight road and his speed increased, I couldn’t stop my hand clutching at my seatbelt. He glanced over, said, ‘Sorry,’ and slowed down.
‘You see, I’m pretty sure the light I keep seeing in my dreams is a real memory, and it has to be another vehicle on that corner. So why won’t my mind let me remember it properly?’
‘Well, you were under the influence, so maybe you were so out of it that the light was all you ever registered.’
It was very possible, but … ‘Oh, I don’t know. I just wish I could speak to Jacob Downes myself. I’m sure he must know something. Either it was his headlight, or he saw another car. And why do I seem to see another figure with him?’
He said nothing for a while, then, ‘Well, when Mr Hillier arrived you could have been half conscious. Just enough to be aware of his presence and of the two voices.’
That made as much sense as anything else.
As we pulled into the drive of Beldon House, Kieran whistled, ‘Nice place, bit different to the two up two down I grew up in.’
‘But you were happy there, weren’t you?’
‘Yeah, we were. It was great until Dad got ill.’
I thanked him, feeling awkward again, but when he leaned over and gave me a light kiss it felt completely natural. ‘Good luck. See you later,’ was all he said.
When I’d introduced myself to Martha, she said she’d banged on Tom’s door to tell him she was here, but had heard nothing. I went up and knocked, ‘Tom, it’s Mum. I’m coming in to talk to you.’ He was out of bed, but still in his pyjamas, sitting on the window seat that overlooked the driveway. He must have seen me arrive.