More Than Us

by Dawn Barker

  ‘I told you not to let her on the internet! Haven’t you heard anything I’ve said? This is why—’

  ‘Paul, don’t shout at me.’

  I stopped, cradling the phone between my neck and my shoulder.

  ‘I just… I can’t do this on my own any more. I took her to the doctor after school today. She’s underweight, but she’s stable, medically. Tilly just said that she’s been forgetting to eat sometimes because she’s busy, so I went along with it and said we were just having a check-up, but I know it’s more than that. I didn’t know what to say to her, I don’t want to accuse her of doing this deliberately, especially when it’s been so hard for her this week with you and Cameron.’

  I said nothing; my eyes welled up.

  Emily continued, barely pausing for breath. ‘The GP didn’t confront her either, but she called me later and said we have to watch her closely. The GP wants to refer her to a psychologist, and we need to weigh her every week and see if she’s still losing weight, and if she is, then she needs to have all sorts of medical tests…’ She paused. ‘Why aren’t you saying anything?’

  ‘I don’t know what to say.’

  ‘I give up, Paul. We need you. I don’t know any more what I think, what I believe. Now Tilly…’ I heard her sigh before she spoke forcefully. ‘I don’t know why I’ve waited so long. If you refuse to come home, then we’re coming to you. I’m booking the flights now and we’re coming.’

  She hung up and I stared at the receiver, stunned.

  ‘Paul,’ Mum said softly, behind me.

  I placed the handset down gently on the glass table and turned around, blinking a few times.

  ‘Everything okay?’

  I shrugged. ‘It’s all fine, Ma.’

  She said nothing, just held my gaze.

  ‘Oh, it’s just a bit of a mess at the moment, you know? Now she thinks Tilly has an eating disorder.’ I tried to laugh but it sounded like a strangled cry.

  ‘An eating disorder?’

  ‘That’s what she said.’

  ‘You don’t believe her?’

  I shook my head and pulled out one of the dining chairs then sat down. Mum did too. ‘I don’t know any more. It’s just the same as what happened with Cameron, you know, her obsession with finding something wrong with them.’

  ‘You haven’t told me much about what happened with Cameron. Is he okay?’

  ‘He’s fine.’

  ‘So, why’s he going off to this group?’

  ‘You don’t understand, Ma,’ I said, rubbing my eyes.

  ‘Maybe not,’ she agreed, and we sat in silence for a few moments.

  I looked up at her. She was fiddling with the lace doily on the table. ‘Mum, do you think he’s okay?’

  ‘Cameron?’

  I nodded, holding my breath.

  She shrugged. ‘He’s just a lad. He seems a bit sad.’

  I looked out of the kitchen window, saw the gulls circling in the heavy sky. ‘She’s looking for the answers in all the wrong places. She spends hours on those health websites chatting to people and getting herself all worked up about imaginary symptoms. I don’t know, I wouldn’t be surprised if it’s just a way to drag me back, you know? She doesn’t want us to be here, she never wanted me to take Cameron away from her.’

  ‘Do you blame her?’

  I shrugged, sighed. How could I explain it to someone who hadn’t been through it?

  ‘Is she imagining the stuff about an eating disorder too?’

  ‘I have no idea.’

  ‘You wouldn’t want to miss that, you know.’

  ‘We’ll see. She and Tilly are coming here.’

  Mum nodded slowly. ‘I think that’s a good idea.’

  ‘I don’t know if Cameron’s ready to see her.’

  ‘Of course he’s ready. She’s his mother, he misses her terribly. Paul, maybe it’s you who’s not ready.’

  ‘I—’

  She held her hand up to stop me. ‘I don’t know what’s been going on, Paul. But I know you. You’re a good man, like your father. I can see that something’s been happening and it’s your business what it is. But just watch your kids, you know. Don’t lose them to… well, to whatever it is you’re doing.’

  ‘I’m not doing anything, Ma! Cameron is getting help, the right help!’

  She stood up and smoothed down her shirt. ‘You said yersel’, Paul, that you don’t think there’s anything wrong with him. Just be careful. When I was a kid, the Wee Free kirk was everywhere, telling us what we could and couldn’t do.’

  ‘It’s not like that, Ma. It’s just a group, a clinic. It’s not a church.’

  ‘All these rules and silly beliefs. Kids are vulnerable.’

  ‘I’m not a kid.’

  ‘No, you’re not, son. You’re an adult and I know you can make your own decisions for your own family.’

  My face was burning. ‘Aye.’ I stood up too. ‘I think I’ll go for a walk.’

  At the sound of ‘walk’, Dougall pricked his ears up from where he was lying on the kitchen floor, then began wagging his tail while looking up at me with his brown eyes.

  She nodded. ‘Alright, Paul. I’ll put the kettle on for when you get back.’

  Thirty-Seven

  Emily

  ‘Put your hoodie on, Tilly,’ I said as we waited at the baggage carousel.

  Even though we had yet to set a foot outside, the dampness of the external air seeped into the terminal. Those people who clearly lived here in Scotland had their anoraks and coats on. Others, like us, were less well prepared, with only tracksuit tops or hoodies to keep them warm.

  ‘You tired, sweetie?’ I put my arms round Tilly’s shoulders. She felt tiny. I squeezed her tighter, alarmed at how frail she felt.

  ‘I didn’t sleep at all,’ she said, looking teary.

  ‘You did,’ I laughed. ‘You were snoring.’

  She looked up at me then swatted at me; I laughed again.

  I know she had slept because I hadn’t. I had tried to watch a movie, but it had made me cry and I knew that once I started, I would not be able to stop, so I switched it off. I had watched a documentary about people climbing Everest until that too made my chin quiver and even watching a live Adele concert made me well up. I had instead laid back as much as I could and tried to relax, watching Tilly. She had eaten some food: the salad, a small piece of chicken, a few spoonfuls of rice. The food was awful; I probably hadn’t eaten much more so maybe I was overreacting. While she slept, I had stared at the screen on the back of the seat in front of me at the image of the aeroplane crossing the world and counting the endless time until we arrived.

  Now, we had arrived. I pulled my shoulders back and slung my handbag over my shoulder and with the other hand, held my computer bag and tried to look like I knew what I was doing. My mouth was dry. My eyes were gritty, my skin desiccated. The airport was smaller than I remembered, but at least the queuing, checking, and stamping was quick.

  And then, before I knew it, we were walking through a glass automatic door and Paul was standing there. But he was alone.

  It had only been a week since I’d seen him, but he had let a short beard grow, peppered with grey; it suited him. His cheeks were pale with a blush from the cold air. He had a fleece jacket on that I’d never seen before, and hiking boots under his faded jeans. He grinned at Tilly; I couldn’t help but break into a smile as I watched her run to him and into his arms. I hurried forwards too, and when he looked at me, and he and Tilly broke their embrace to include me, I had no choice but to hug them both, for Tilly’s sake. I sniffed and squeezed my eyes tight then opened them and stepped back from him. I saw Paul looking carefully at her, looking for signs that I’d been wrong.

  ‘Where’s Cameron?’ I said, looking behind him.

  ‘It was a long way for him to come so early in the morning, I let him sleep.’

  I dropped my eyes and shook my head. ‘Paul—’ I was aware that my voice was pleading with him. Still, he was
playing games, showing me who was in control. ‘Why wouldn’t he be here? Don’t you think that he wants to see us?’

  ‘I got up in the pitch black. He was fast asleep. He’ll be there when we get back to Mum’s.’

  I wiped at my face, shaking my head. ‘I can’t believe this,’ I muttered.

  ‘Let’s go.’ Tilly tugged at my hand, took Paul’s in the other. ‘Come on. I want to see Grandma.’

  ‘Yes, let’s go,’ I said, unable to keep the bite out of my voice. ‘I want to see Cameron.’

  Paul began pushing the trolley with the luggage. I clutched his arm and spoke quietly. ‘How is he?’

  ‘Good. He’s really good.’

  I nodded and followed him outside into the crisp air.

  * * *

  I struggled to stay awake in the car, lulled by the warm heater blowing on my face and the bright green hills outside in a clear air that seemed so far away from the yellowing, dry fields of Australia. Everything seemed shrunken here: the roads narrower, the buildings compressed together, the cars smaller with oversized number plates, like children wearing new blazers that they’ve yet to grow in to. And when I peered through the exhaustion, I thought that maybe I was in a dream as I saw the snow-capped mountains in the distance, with purple around the bases of the hills. I wanted to stay awake, I wanted to make demands of Paul, but my eyes were so tired and finally, after a week of fear sapping my energy, at least I was here. Cameron was only kilometres away from me now. And despite myself, despite hating Paul for what he’d done, just being back together, in this warm car, far away from the place where the problems all started, made me feel that maybe I could afford to let myself rest for a moment.

  Something in me sensed when we approached the familiar streets near Paul’s mum’s house. I forced my eyes open and looked out of the window at the grey granite buildings, beautiful when the sun was shining, but on a damp day like today, cold-looking. Suddenly it seemed like there wasn’t enough air in the car. My face started to burn and sweat prickled my skin. I pressed the button to wind down the window a little and the cold wind blasted in.

  ‘Mum!’ Tilly whined from the back seat. ‘Close your window.’

  I leaned my head against the cold glass, letting the chilled air blow across the top of my head from the gap. I felt the glass slide up and glared over at Paul. His finger was on the button beneath his own window.

  ‘Do you mind?’ I said.

  He ignored me and tapped on his window. ‘Hey, Tilly, there’s the high school that your mum and I went to.’

  ‘Looks like a prison,’ she mumbled, then went quiet.

  My teeth were clenched but I had to keep calm, for Tilly. ‘It was a bit stricter than your school, Tilly,’ I tried to say lightly. She was right; it did look like a fortified penitentiary.

  ‘We used to get the cane,’ Paul said, in a deep voice. ‘If we spoke back the teachers would put a piece of chalk on the desk and whack it with their belt and we’d watch it disintegrate into a cloud of white dust. That used to shut us up. Imagine if they did that at your school.’ He turned around to look at her, grinning, then turned back to face the road.

  ‘I never get in trouble, Dad. They’d run out of chalk for Cameron though.’

  ‘Tilly, that’s not true,’ I said.

  ‘It is,’ she replied, haughty.

  ‘Your dad used to get in trouble at school too, and look at him now,’ I said. I saw his eyes dart towards me and his fingers blanched on the steering wheel. I spoke more softly. ‘He runs businesses, was a world class athlete. So, behaving at school isn’t everything, Tilly. Your brother will be fine.’

  ‘He’ll be great,’ said Paul.

  ‘Whatever,’ said Tilly.

  I almost let myself smile.

  * * *

  The car had only just stopped when I saw the blinds at the front of the bungalow twitch. I threw open the car door and ran down the gravel drive way to the door on the side of the house, which led straight into the kitchen. The door opened as I put my hand up to pull down the handle and then, like magic, Cameron reappeared back into my life. I broke into a grin then grabbed hold of him as the tears streamed down my face and from the heaving of his body, which already seemed to have stretched taller, I knew that he was crying too.

  ‘I missed you, Cammie. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry I left you in the hospital,’ I mumbled into his ear.

  ‘Me too, Mum,’ he sniffed.

  I broke our hug for a moment, and held him at arm’s length to consider his face. Paler, certainly. But unharmed. He looked just like himself. I wished I could pat down his limbs, look at his arms and legs and back and chest as I once had when he was a baby to check for bruises, cuts, lumps or rashes that shouldn’t be there. He was whole, he was safe. He was here.

  Thirty-Eight

  Paul

  The local pub was quiet. We used to come here all the time, when Emily was back from university and I was a young football player. It felt like we were back in a time before the dream of our life in Australia. Sitting here, in the warm fug of nostalgia, everything we’d been through recently in Sydney seemed faded in the harsh haze. Had it really happened?

  Without saying anything, Emily sat down at a table near the window. You couldn’t smoke here anymore but it still reeked of it. I was glad it hadn’t yet been taken over by a chain brewery with a standard fancy menu and fake relics on the wall. I went to the bar. I could see the blinking lights of the bandits winking at me from the far wall of the pub. I walked up to the bar. God. I’d love a pint. It almost felt like it would be safe here, like I was protected from everything that had happened in Australia now that I was back home. I ordered Emily a gin and tonic. I hesitated, then ordered a soda water with lime.

  Tilly had already crashed out on the blow-up mattress; Cameron had agreed to stay home as I’d let him watch TV with Mum. I figured that a few quiz shows couldn’t do him any harm. Since they’d arrived yesterday, Emily and I hadn’t had a chance to talk alone. Mum had been hovering around us, and the kids followed Emily any time she tried to step away from them.

  I walked back to the table, carrying a drink in each hand. Emily’s eyes were bloodshot above dark shadows. Her elbow was on the table, her hand propping up her head.

  I sat down opposite her and slid her drink over to her. She picked it up, sipped it, and put it on the coaster. ‘Thanks,’ she said.

  ‘They had Hendricks.’

  ‘Tempted?’

  I bristled, then started to smile, but Emily wasn’t smiling, just staring at her drink with her shoulders slumped.

  ‘A little,’ I said quietly.

  ‘Have you noticed?’

  ‘Tilly?’

  She nodded.

  ‘She’s thin.’

  ‘Have you seen her eat?’

  ‘She had some fruit, some toast.’ I had watched her, trying not to look like I was watching her: she had eaten, only half a piece of toast, but the jet lag throws your appetite all over the place, doesn’t it?

  ‘Hardly any.’

  ‘It’s enough. She’s tired. From the journey.’

  ‘We’re all tired. She’s… there’s nothing left of her anymore.’

  ‘Maybe she’s just over-exercising and needs some extra calories. It can creep up on you.’

  She laughed, looking at me through watery eyes. ‘You’re unbelievable, Paul. Your inability to see exactly what is in front of your face, this… this… denial of yours is insane! Do you think I’m making this up?’ She shook her head. ‘Oh. You think that I’m doing this somehow, don’t you? It’s not just that you think I’m making it up, you think that somehow, I’m actually making these things happen to our children. What am I doing, starving my own daughter?’

  ‘That’s not …’ I shook my head.

  ‘Oh yes, it is. It is. You think I’m the problem. Well I’ll tell you something, Paul. You are her father. You are Cameron’s father.’ She pointed at me.

  ‘Don’t point your finger at me lik
e that.’ I looked round us, but the few people dotted around the bar weren’t interested. The football was playing at a low volume on the TV screens above the bar, and at the bar, two old men sat staring into their beer.

  ‘Doesn’t feel good, does it? I’m not taking the blame for Tilly too. Jesus, Paul, I am trying my best. I am the one trying to hold this family together and make up for the space where you should be, while you just run away from it all.’

  ‘I’ve been trying to make things better too, Emily.’

  ‘Well, it’s not working, is it?’

  ‘Cameron—’

  ‘Oh, bugger off, Paul.’ She slammed her drink down.

  ‘Well, that’s helpful.’ I shook my head and looked away.

  ‘Cameron is the same way that he always was. He’s probably worse as he’s had the trauma of you taking him away to the other side of the world to deal with. He’s a mess. Stop kidding yourself that you’re helping him. The only reason you might think he’s better is that you’ve taken him away from all the pressures of life. As soon as he’s back to school, he’ll fail again.’

  ‘You are not the judge of the pass mark, Emily.’

  ‘Tilly has an eating disorder. What are you going to do about it? She’s a kid. She could die.’

  ‘Emily, don’t be so dramatic.’

  She stared at me, her jaw clenched, then she seemed to deflate. ‘I can’t talk to you. I thought that coming here, that…’ she wiped away a tear. ‘That things would be different. I’ll deal with this myself then.’

  ‘I’ll talk to her.’

  She rubbed at her forehead. ‘Paul. You need to wake up to this. Both of our children are really struggling, and you just sit there and refuse to do anything about it. I won’t let you do to Tilly what you did to Cameron.’

  ‘I didn’t do anything.’

  She stared at me for a moment before speaking. ‘That’s the point.’

  I swallowed. The anger fizzled out and I met her stare. She was wrong.

  She was wrong.