by Karen Woods
She changed the subject, she wasn’t ready to answer this yet, no way, she had to think about it. “I’ve had a shite day I can tell you. It’s just gone from bad to worse. Perhaps a weekend away from life is what I need.”
Dessie was listening now and he answered her. “Can I say something?”
“Yes, crack on, you can say what you want, there is no need to ask.”
“My life may look all perfect to you because I live out here in the sunshine, but I can tell you now it’s not all it seems. I’ve not been happy for a long time and when you got in touch with me it just put my head into a spin and, well, I…”
Harpur was hanging on his every word, waiting for him to finish what he was saying. “You what?” she eagerly replied.
Dessie swallowed hard and it was obvious he’d let something slip. He tried backtracking. “I kind of like what we have going on here. You make me feel alive again.”
Harpur blushed and if she was being honest here, she felt the same. She studied him longer than she should have as he spoke, taking in every expression he made, looking deep into his eyes, getting flutters inside her heart. It was true, he made her feel alive too. “What if we met, would you expect us to be sleeping with each other, having sex?” She just blurted it out, straight to the point.
Dessie choked and smirked at her. “I think you won’t be able to keep your hands off me. I’ll have to fight you off.” The banter had started and both of them were having a friendly pop at each other. Harpur could tell this man anything, she could feel the connection they had. Was it possible that the love that developed so many years ago could still be stored in their hearts? But that wasn’t love way back then, surely? It was just puppy love. Not the real ever-lasting love, her true love? Was Dessie really her destiny, her fate? She wasn’t sure. This man was playing havoc with her emotions and she wasn’t sure if she could trust herself in the same room as him. Harpur was being drawn towards him though, like a moth to a flame. Their two hearts were becoming one. “So are we up for a bit of fun then? Me and thee, you and I, having a catch up?”
Here it was, she had to decide. Harpur flicked her hair over her shoulder and still she wasn’t sure of her answer. “Maybe, maybe not.”
“It’s just a date Harpur, God, live a little and come and see me.”
It was there on the tip of her tongue, the reply, her heart’s desire. Without thinking any further she followed her heart. “Alright then, but if you start chatting any shit to me or trying your charm on me it won’t be working. I won’t be having sex with you, you know that don’t you?”
“I never thought for one second that you would. Plus, you’re still frigid aren’t you.”
This man had charm for sure, the gift of the gab, she was like butter in his hands. “Do you mean just because I didn’t drop my knickers for you, you think I’m frigid?”
Dessie became serious and he looked her straight in the eye. “No, but you dropped them for someone you didn’t even know. I know all about that crank you was with and even now I still can’t believe you ended up with someone like him.” Dessie dug deep and you could tell by his tone that whatever happened years ago was still lying heavy on his mind.
“It wasn’t like that Dessie. Maybe when we sit down together I will explain some stuff to you. Anyway, what did you care? You went with any girl that had a pulse. So much for what we had.”
Dessie shook his head and sucked hard on his lips. “Whatever darling, maybe I will explain some stuff to you too.”
Harpur checked the clock in the car and realised that she had to go. These two had been gabbing for over an hour now. “I’ll text you the hotel details once I’ve booked. I’m looking forward to it now.”
Harpur sniggered and you could tell by her face she was excited by it too. “Bye Dessie, take care.”
“Bye gorgeous, speak soon.”
The video chat ended and Harpur had to take a few seconds to compose herself. What had just happened? Had she really agreed to meet her ex-boyfriend and spend the weekend with him? Harpur pulled up outside her house and sat staring at it. It didn’t mean what it used to to her anymore. In the past she couldn’t wait to get home. To look after her family, to make sure all her chores were done and for her husband to come home from work. There were no more cosy nights snuggled on the sofa with Neil anymore, no more date nights, it had all just drifted away from her. Harpur got out of the car and headed to the boot. Dragging the black bin bag out, she headed into the house.
It was late now and just the living room light was on. She peeped inside and Neil was lying on the sofa fast asleep, the football still on the TV. She stood at the doorway and stared at her husband. He wasn’t a bad man, he wasn’t violent. But was he enough for her anymore? Could he relight the passion in her heart? She wasn’t sure. Harpur closed the door slowly. She wasn’t going to wake him up, no way. He would only have gone on and on about their marriage if she did.
Harpur sat on the bed in her pyjamas going through her brother’s belongings. There were lots of notes and photographs, scattered about. She read the letters and her eyes clouded over. This was more or less her brother’s life in this bag. Why had her mum just launched all this stuff out? There were letters from jail from his mates, little keepsakes that told a story. Harpur picked up a photograph. She closed her eyes and took a while to look at it again. It was a picture of Brady when he was younger, when he was clean from drugs, before his life had gone wild. Her finger stroked slowly across the picture as tears ran down the side of her cheek. “You're still my baby brother our kid. Look at you here all neat and tidy. You were a good-looking lad too weren't you. What happened Brady? Tell me how you became so lost that you just left us all behind?” She was sobbing her heart out, grieving for her sibling, wishing things could have turned out differently. She slowly kissed the photograph and laid it on the bed next to her.
Her eyes shot to a small folded piece of paper near her legs that must have dropped out of the bag. Reaching over towards it, she unfolded it slowly. The writing was small and she was struggling to see the words written on it. “Brady, we need to sort this out. I hate lying to everyone. You need to help me, it’s your mess too. Love M X” Harpur held her flat palm against her chest. At last a clue as to what was going on in her brother’s life. She read the words over and over again. “I hate lying to everyone.” What the hell did this mean? Who were they talking about and who was this letter from? Harpur was confused and she went through all the other letters slowly. There were only two letters left on the bed and she chose the one to the left of her. Her eyes squeezed together as she tried to read the words written there. This was Brady’s handwriting, she could recognise it anywhere. Little squiggles.
“Mam, I’m sorry alright. I just got mixed up in it all trying to help. You know I’m trying to get out of this mess but it takes time. I love you and I’m grateful for all you do for me. Please don’t judge me. I feel bad enough that you know. All I can say is that I’m trying mam. Love Brady XXX”
This was getting worse by the minute, what on earth was going on here? Brady was involved in something and Sheila knew about it. Why hadn’t she told her, put her mind at rest? At least then she could have accepted her brother’s death instead of going over it every day in her mind. What a snide cow her mother was, how could she have done this? Harpur folded the letter up and sat thinking. The truth was coming out, she could sense it.
Suddenly there were noises from the hallway, stairs creaking. She held her ear to the door. Nothing, silence, she must have been imagining it. Harpur started to put all of Brady’s things into a bag. She kept some stuff out though, private stuff, sentimental to her. There it was again, noises outside. Her heart was leaping about inside her ribcage. Footsteps coming closer to her bedroom door now. The door opened and her heart was in her mouth.
“Sorry love, I thought you would be asleep.”
Harpur looked confused. “How long have you been upstairs, I heard the stairs creaking, then nothing.�
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Neil walked inside the bedroom and sat on the edge of the bed with his head in his hands. “Babes, I don’t want to lose you. You’re my world. I’d be nothing without you. My head’s in bits, can’t we just sort it out.”
Harpur finished putting the letters into the bag. This was the same script he always used when he was in the dog house. These were just words now, they didn’t mean anything anymore, nothing ever changed. There was no pity in her eyes, no feeling sorry for him. She was immune to his bullshit, there was no way he was pulling the wool over her eyes anymore. Once bitten, twice shy. “Just get in bed Neil, it’s late. We can sort this out tomorrow. My head’s banging. I just need to sleep, to clear my head, please don’t go on.”
NEIL FELL ONTO THE BED AND HE WAS AFTER THE SYMPATHY VOTE. “OK LOVE, I’M SORRY FOR UPSETTING YOU AND LIKE I SAID BEFORE, I’M GOING TO MAKE YOU HAPPY AGAIN.” THEY BOTH LAY DOWN IN THEIR MARITAL BED AND HARPUR TURNED AWAY FROM HIM. HIS FINGER STROKED UP AND DOWN HER SPINE AND HE KISSED HER BACK. “GOODNIGHT DARLING, I LOVE YOU.” HARPUR NEVER REPLIED, SHE HAD TOO MUCH GOING ON INSIDE HER HEAD ALREADY. WHAT ON EARTH HAD HER BROTHER BEEN INVOLVED IN AND WAS SHE REALLY GOING TO REKINDLE HER RELATIONSHIP WITH HER CHILDHOOD SWEETHEART DESSIE RYAN?
CHAPTER TWELVE
Harpur was waiting outside the house where Bridget was working. She had a viewing for the estate agents she worked for and she was just showing a couple around the property. They usually met at houses like this, especially if the property was unoccupied, or the owners were away on business. This house was the dog’s bollocks; a detached five-bedroom in a prime location. Harpur could never afford anything like this, it was what people like her would have called a dream home. Hold on, Bridget was at the front door of the property with the viewers now, they must have finished looking around the property. Harpur watched her best friend shaking the man’s hand. She must have sold the property by the look on her face, clinched a deal. Bridget could sell sand to the Arabs when she put her mind to it. She was good at her job and loved the people she met. Harpur hid away as the couple walked past her. Keeping her head low, she watched as the couple got into a car that was parked not far from where she was stood. Bridget came to the gates of the house and gave Harpur a wave. The coast was clear and they could have a good few hours inside this gaff without anyone bothering them. Bridget waited for her to step inside and jumped about with joy. “They bought it, they loved everything about the place but come on, who wouldn’t? Come and have a look around. It’s massive.”
Harpur went on a tour of the house and her eyes were wide open. “It’s amazing isn’t it?”
Bridget jumped on the king-sized bed and lay with her hands behind her head. “Yep, it sure is. Where do these people get their money from to buy something like this? It’s up for nearly a half a million you know?”
“Bleeding hell, it is special though isn’t it?” Harpur bounced on the edge of the bed and she was dying to tell her best friend all about her plans. “Bridget, you know like you said I was boring?”
Her best friend nodded and giggled. “Yes, I did say that, why what’s changed?”
“I’m going to spend next weekend with Dessie.”
“Fuck off lying. Stop it.”
Harpur lay back on the bed and rubbed her hands together with excitement. “No, it’s true. I’m going. I need to put this to bed once and for all and well, it’s not like things are good at home is it.”
“Are you going to have sex with him?”
Harpur twisted her head to face Bridget. “I don’t know. I’m just going to play it by ear.”
Bridget sat up on the bed and something wasn’t right with her. “You need to be careful with Dessie. Remember, he’s a player. They are your words not mine.”
“I know, but I need something to take my mind from the shit that I’ve got going on. It’s just a bit of fun, bleeding hell what’s changed with you anyway? You’re the one who said I needed to have a life, remember?”
“I know, but Dessie Ryan is trouble.”
Harpur played with her fingers and melted into the bed. “He makes me weak at the knees, you know. Honest, I just don’t have any control over my feelings with him anymore. I keep trying to stop myself thinking about him but I can’t help it. I’m cursed or something.”
Bridget sniggered. “Oh my God you’re going to bang his brains out aren’t you. Go on girl, show him what he missed out on, ruin him. Isn’t it weird how you two have ended up speaking after all these years? Do you think you two have been set to meet all this time? Like the law of attraction. It’s like the universe has made you two come together.” Bridget loved the law of attraction and she always believed things happened for a reason. “Where are you going to tell Neil you are going? I mean, you’ve not been on a weekend away for as long as I can remember, don’t you think he will suss something is going on?”
Harpur shot a look over at Bridget. “That’s where I need your help. You know I’m no good at lying. I need you to come up with a plan.”
Bridget held a single finger in the side of her mouth, nibbling at pink glossed nails. “Okay, let’s tell him we are going away on a hen weekend. You can say it’s a girl from my works. Neil hasn’t got a clue who I work with anyway so it should be fine.”
“Will you mention it when you come to our house. You know, as if I don’t know?”
She winked at her and smiled. “Yeah, don’t worry I’ll sort it. Never mind that, that’s the least of your worries. You need to go shopping and find an outfit and some nice sexy underwear just in case you want to show the growler.”
Harpur burst out laughing. “Stop it you. I’m nervous enough without you giving me other things to worry about. But, you do have a point. I mean, when was the last time I bought any sexy knickers? This is getting worse by the minute, fuck, fuck, fuck. Orr Bridget you need to help me.”
“Relax, we can go after work tomorrow. I’ll come and drop the bombshell to Neil and then we can say we are going shopping. Since when has Neil batted an eyelid anyway, he’ll be watching the footy, he won’t even know you’ve gone.”
This was true, Neil had never cared where his wife was. In fact, she could have stayed out all night long and he still wouldn’t have noticed she was missing. Harpur reached inside her pocket and passed the letter she’d found in her brother’s belongings over to Bridget. This was serious now. “Have a read of this and see what you think.”
“What is it, who’s it from?”
“I found it in our kid’s stuff that my mam was throwing out. Just be quiet and read it.”
Bridget opened the letter and her eyes flicked across the page, her mouth was moving but no words were coming out. She kept stopping and looking at Harpur and continued to read. Once she’d finished she folded the letter back up slowly and shook her head. “Something’s not right is it? And what does your mam know, because it’s clear in this letter that she knows more than she’s letting on? What a dark horse she is.”
Harpur sighed and finally she felt like she had someone else onside. “I’m going to see her soon. I’ll show her the letter and see what she has to say for herself.”
Bridget didn’t like this, she wanted to keep it on the low for now. “No, just leave her alone. It’s not like she’s going to tell you anything is it? I say you go and see that girl your Sam mentioned and see what she knows. Yes, start with her and if you get no joy there then go and start asking your mam. It’s the way forward I think.”
“Perhaps you’re right. If my mam wanted me to know then she would have told me I suppose. I just have a really bad feeling about all this that’s all.”
“Never mind that. I can’t believe you have a real date. It’s an affair isn’t it!”
These words scared Harpur. She would never have said she was having an affair. It was more just meeting up with an old friend. The girls sat chatting for over an hour and they both agreed to meet later that night. The plan was set to tell Neil about the weekend. Once this was done it would be a
ll plain sailing.
Harpur had already made some enquiries about the estate and she now knew where Melanie Byfield lived. Sam had told her some stories about this woman and she knew she would have to be prepared when she met her. Harpur was streetwise though, she knew the crack and if push came to shove she would rip her head off, punch her lights out to find out the truth. Life living with her ex had taught her a thing or two about fighting and even by her own admittance, she was an animal once she started fighting; biting, punching, kicking. Yes, she had some moves up her sleeve.
*
Harpur sat in her car watching the house from a distance. Cars kept pulling up outside the gaff and she was sure they were selling drugs there. Each junkie that walked away from the house looked as desperate as the next. Her brother had looked like that sometimes. She’d know that look anywhere; hunched shoulders, sunken cheeks, grey skin. Yes, she’d seen Brady hit rock bottom a few times and this lot reminded her of him. Brady would go weeks without having a wash sometimes and when he was on a drugs binge he was lucky to even brush his teeth. If it wasn’t for his mother Sheila, Brady would have starved to death for sure. No matter what state her son came home in, his mother would always make sure she fed him. It must have been hell for her. How hard it must have been to watch your child crumbling away right in front of you? It must have been hell on earth. Why had he turned to drugs in the first place, was he that weak-willed that he didn’t know just how his life would turn out and what it would do to his family? It destroyed them. Granted, all kids dabble in drugs as they are growing up but to touch the hard stuff like heroin and crack, he must have had a screw loose.
Sheila always blamed Tony Wallis for her son’s addiction. It was never Brady’s fault, no, her blue-eyed boy could never do any wrong in her eyes. It was always somebody else’s fault. Sheila would scratch anyone’s eyes out who said a wrong word about her boy. She could call him and shout at him but God help anyone else who blackened his name. Harpur had seen some horrible stuff when she lived at home. Her brother begging her for money to score, he would do anything when he was roasting for drugs. He’d robbed so much of her own personal stuff too; rings, bracelets, earrings, all presents from Sam’s dad, he’d taken the lot and sold them for peanuts, just enough to get a bag of brown. He had no morals where drugs were concerned. Heroin was evil and whatever it did to people, it never let them go, stripped them of all emotion. Gripped them from inside and tortured them. They were prisoners for life. So what happened to Brady to make him turn to drugs.