by Anna Jacobs
He eased himself in next to her, not allowing himself to groan.
After a couple of miles, he asked, ‘You all right?’
‘My head aches.’
‘They’ve given me some more painkillers for you, but you’re not to have another one for an hour yet.’
He’d been secretly dreading the journey back, but in fact, it was better than the journey to the hospital. He felt more confident about driving now and having Nicole beside him cheered him up, so that he didn’t seem to notice the pain as much. If he could drive again, even if he couldn’t go very far, it’d make a huge difference to his daily life.
He’d needed shaking out of his depression, he realised, and thinking of others, helping them, was a very good medicine for doing that.
As they turned into Peppercorn Street, she roused. ‘Could we go to my flat first? If no one’s around, I’ll nip inside and grab a few clothes. These are bloodstained and dirty and I need my night things. I can be in and out within five minutes.’
‘Are you sure you’re up to that?’
‘Yes. Honestly.’
His father drove to the hospital more slowly than usual, too slowly for the traffic conditions on the M4 motorway. Paul glanced sideways at Sam a couple of times but didn’t comment on this. ‘Where do you think William is?’ This was worrying him considerably.
‘I don’t know. Do you think he did it, attacked your mother?’
‘Yes, I do.’
‘I can’t believe it!’
‘Well, he slashed her tyres the other night.’
‘Slashed her tyres? Oh, yes, I remember you said so. But they couldn’t prove it was him, could they?’
The car slewed to the left suddenly and Paul grabbed the steering wheel to stop them running off the road. ‘Watch it, Dad.’
‘Sorry. I was distracted for a minute.’ He fell silent, then said, ‘He’s out of control, isn’t he? William, I mean.’
‘I think it’s more than that, Dad. I think he’s gone crazy. Maybe it’s the steroids he’s taking.’
‘He’s taking steroids?’
‘Haven’t you noticed how he’s beefed up?’
‘I thought he was just – growing into a man. No, you must be mistaken.’
Dead silence. Paul didn’t break it because you couldn’t convince someone who didn’t want to believe what you said. His dad looked unhappy. The whole family was in a mess. He didn’t blame his mum for bailing out. She was safer away from William. Paul wished he could bail out too.
He had wondered about going to see the school counsellor, only it seemed like such a disloyal thing to do. If his dad didn’t pull himself together soon, though, he’d have to do it. He wasn’t going to hassle his mother about it. She had enough to deal with.
When they got to the hospital, his dad seemed to have difficulty deciding where to park. In the end Paul had to point out a place and just about order him to park there. This was getting weirder and weirder.
In casualty they waited for ages, then the woman behind the counter told them Mrs Gainsford had already gone home.
‘Is she all right, then?’ Sam asked.
‘And you are?’
‘Her husband.’
She looked at him suspiciously. ‘Her husband picked her up already and she went with him willingly. I don’t know who you are, but—’
Sam got out his wallet and showed them some identification.
The woman went a bit red. ‘Well, I’m sorry, but they both said he was her husband.’
‘Have you any idea where they’ve gone?’
‘Back home, I suppose. I can find you the address she gave us, but I can’t guarantee it’s the right one.’
Paul interrupted. He couldn’t take much more of this. ‘I know where she lives, Dad. We’ll go there, shall we?’ He had to tug his dad’s arm to get him moving and guide him through the car park.
He wished his mum was there, or any adult. This was too heavy for him.
And he still had William to face when they got back. Would his brother turn on him next?
There seemed to be no one lurking near Nicole’s flat. Kieran wanted to go in with her, but she insisted she’d be all right. There was a security number pad on the door and she didn’t think William was good enough technically to bypass that.
Kieran rolled the car window down so that he’d hear if she called and watched her as she went inside. She seemed to be walking steadily now, thank goodness.
He kept an eye on the street, but nothing moved and no one passed by on foot. It wasn’t as well lit here as near his house, because there was no reflected glow from the brightly lit shop windows in the main street.
In a very short time Nicole came out again, her face a pale blur as she moved towards the car.
‘You all right?’ he asked.
She nodded and winced. ‘I must remember not to nod. It hurts.’
He drove back down the street, relieved when he got the car safely into the garage without them being attacked, though he didn’t tell her that. He was glad of the back door that led from the garage into his flat.
Once inside, he showed her the spare bedrooms. ‘Choose whichever you prefer and I’ll help you make up the bed.’ While she was looking, he went into the kitchen to find his own painkillers.
She came in just as he was swallowing a tablet. ‘Is your leg hurting a lot?’
‘A bit. It’s not used to so much activity. But I feel good about driving again. Um – I may get a bit dopey when this kicks in. It’s quite a strong painkiller and I only take them at night to help me get comfortable enough to sleep. Just help yourself to anything in the kitchen or fridge if I fall asleep on you.’
‘Let’s both sit down. My head’s thumping and I’m having that other painkiller as soon as I’m allowed. I’m sorry you got caught up in my troubles, Kieran. I hope your insurance will cover the damage to the hall windows.’
‘It should do. And it’s not your fault. You’ve nothing to apologise for.’ He let the silence flow for a few seconds then added, ‘Your son is seriously disturbed.’
‘Yes. I realise that. I’ve been trying to think where I went wrong with him.’
‘I doubt it was your fault. Mental illness can happen in the best of families.’
‘Mental illness.’ She couldn’t speak for a moment or two, shocked at that label being put on a lad of almost eighteen, a lad whose life should just be moving into a rich and happy phase. ‘That sounds so terrible.’ She couldn’t help it. Tears overflowed again and she mopped her eyes with a crumpled tissue.
He picked up a box of tissues and dumped it on the coffee table, hesitated then sat next to her on the couch. As she tried desperately to stop weeping, his heart went out to her and he put one arm round her. With a sigh, she leant against him and they stayed there for some time without speaking.
Once again, it felt right.
Chapter Thirteen
On Wednesday morning Paul woke slightly later than usual and got out of bed hurriedly, not wanting to be late for school. He peered cautiously out of his room, listening intently. The house was absolutely silent. His dad must have gone to work already, but his brother was normally still around at this time so he had to tread carefully.
He went to listen at William’s door, but there was no sound from inside. His heart thumping nervously, he cracked open the door just a little, then pushed it wide open with a sigh of relief. No one there!
The bed was a mess – well, it hadn’t been made since their mum left – but there was no sign of the owner of the room. He looked round and noted that William’s backpack was missing. That went everywhere with his brother so he must be out.
Greatly relieved Paul went along the landing towards the stairs. He’d better get a move on.
But as he was passing his parents’ room, he stopped in shock. The door was half open and his father was still lying in bed. He was going to be very late for work because now he’d catch the heavy morning traffic. He went across to the b
ed. ‘Dad?’
His father didn’t stir.
‘Dad? Wake up.’ He shook his father’s shoulder.
Very slowly, as if he was still more asleep than awake, his father opened his eyes. But he still made no attempt to get up.
‘Dad? Are you all right?’
Sam frowned and rubbed his forehead. ‘’S worse today.’
‘What’s worse?’
‘Headache. Weeks now. Won’t go ’way. Can’t think straight.’
‘Have you seen a doctor?’
‘Don’t go to doctors for headaches.’
Paul sat down on the bed. There was only him left to say it. ‘Dad, I think it’s more than a headache – you’ve been acting a bit strange as well. I think Mum was right. You really should see a doctor. Shall I ring up and make an appointment?’
‘No.’ He tried to stand up and winced, lying back, both hands clasping his head. ‘Can’t get up. Feel dizzy.’
‘Shall I get you an appointment?’
His father just groaned and closed his eyes.
‘Dad, speak to me.’
But his father didn’t even groan this time. His eyes were closed and he looked dreadful.
Paul ran downstairs and found the number for the medical centre, impatiently waiting for a human being to answer. ‘My father’s not well. He’s acting strangely. I don’t know what to do.’
‘Can he come in to see one of the doctors?’
‘No. He just tried to get up and fell back on the bed. He said before he felt dizzy. Now he won’t answer me.’
‘Isn’t there anyone who can drive him here?’
‘No. There’s only me and I’m fifteen.’
‘You’re sure he spoke to you before?’
‘Yes.’
‘Did he make sense?’
‘Sort of.’
‘Perhaps it’s just a migraine. Still, we’d better check. Where do you live? Oh, Eastwick Street. Good. Our health visitor’s about to leave to visit another house nearby. I’ll get her to pop into your place first and see what she thinks.’
‘How long will she be?’
There was a mutter of voices, then, ‘About ten minutes. She’s setting off straight away.’
After he’d put the phone down Paul hesitated. He should probably have called an ambulance straight away. But how did you know? Anyway, if this nurse was coming, she’d know better than him.
It seemed more like ten hours till she arrived. Paul could get no sense from his father, who occasionally groaned but mostly just lay there.
When the doorbell at last rang, he bounded downstairs to answer it.
‘I’m Sally Makepeace, the health visitor. You rang our medical centre.’
‘I’m Paul Gainsford. Come in.’
‘Is your father still feeling unwell?’
‘He’s lying in bed and he keeps groaning. He hasn’t said a word since I rang the centre.’ Paul was hugely embarrassed to find himself near tears and blinked his eyes furiously.
She laid one hand on his forearm. ‘It’s all right to get upset when someone you love is ill. Where’s your mother?’
‘She left home a couple of weeks ago. I can’t get her to answer the phone in her new flat. She was attacked last night and had to go to hospital, so I don’t know if she’s gone back there. And if she hasn’t, I don’t know where she is.’
‘I see. Well, first things first. Let’s go and look at your father.’
The back door banged open and William came in. He stopped dead when he saw the health visitor, then looked at his brother. ‘Who’s she?’
Paul explained quickly.
‘Oh, hell, that’s all we need. Well, don’t expect me to look after him. I only came back for some clean clothes.’ He pushed in front of Mrs Makepeace and went up the stairs two at a time.
She frowned and looked at Paul.
He shook his head to warn her not to tackle William about this rudeness, then led the way up to his parents’ bedroom.
She couldn’t get his father to respond, either. ‘We need to get him to hospital. I’ll call an ambulance.’
William came to lean in the doorway. ‘What’s wrong with him?’
‘I don’t know, but he’s not fully conscious.’
He came into the room and picked up his father’s wallet from the side of the bed. ‘I need some money for going to school.’
‘You’ve been suspended!’ Paul protested. ‘You don’t even need to go out of the house.’
William gave him a backhander that made his head ring and sent him staggering back against the wall. He took all the notes out of the wallet and shoved them in his pocket.
The health visitor stood defensively in front of Paul, glaring at William. ‘You can’t need all that much! Put it back.’
Paul held his breath, ashamed that he was sheltering behind her.
William grinned. ‘Oh? And who’s going to make me? You? I don’t think so. Him? He’s a weakling like my father. They deserve one another.’
He threw the empty wallet down on the bed and went out again into his bedroom. Drawers opened and shut, then they heard him laughing as he ran down the stairs.
Only when the back door banged shut did Paul let out his breath in a whoosh.
‘The police are looking for him,’ he said in a shaky voice. ‘He attacked Mum last night, threw a brick at her. That’s why she had to go to hospital.’
The health visitor sucked in her breath in shock, then shook her head helplessly and turned back to the man on the bed, saying, ‘You’d better pick up that wallet and any other money or valuables in the house. I’ll take you to hospital and we’ll keep trying to get in touch with your mother. You definitely can’t deal with this on your own.’
He nodded. He felt about ten years old and scared, so very scared. What if his dad died? What if William hurt their mother again?
And what was going to happen to him?
Janey got up feeling excited and a bit apprehensive. When she and Millie were ready, she set off for college, arriving much too early for her class because she’d been so afraid of being late.
She took Millie to the crèche and saw her settled, liking the way the staff there dealt with her daughter and asked quite a lot of questions about her needs and habits. The littlies were playing happily in the next room, there were a couple of other babies in this one, and in the bigger kids’ room, everyone was sitting round on the floor listening to a story.
‘Don’t worry,’ the woman in charge said. ‘We’ll take good care of your baby. You just concentrate on your studies.’
‘What time do I have to pick her up?’
‘Whenever you like, as long as it’s before six o’clock. You may want to do some studying in the library on your days here. You’re never really free to concentrate if you’re caring for a baby, are you?’
Janey walked away feeling astonished. She hadn’t realised they’d look after Millie all day. It’d be great to go to the library. Suddenly she felt younger and less burdened. She loved Millie to pieces but it was wonderful to have some time for herself. Straightening her shoulders, she went to find the room where her class was.
The tutor was already there, so she introduced herself and he told her where they were up to, offering to give her an hour or two of personal tuition to help her catch up, if necessary.
‘That’s very kind of you!’
He gave her an understanding smile. ‘My older daughter’s a single mother, too, though she’s older than you and she’s got me and my wife to help her. I know what it’s like, how hard it’s been for her at times, even with our support, so if I can help you to catch up, it’ll be my pleasure. Ah, here they come.’
People came in, one or two at a time. When everyone was settled, he introduced her to the others then started the lesson. She listened intently, relieved when she found her recent reading had given her the information she needed to follow what they were discussing.
It wasn’t at all like the classes at school. There
were students of all ages, some quite old, and after the lesson was over, a group of them said they were going for coffee and invited her to go too.
Rashly she said she would, but began to worry about the cost of the coffee.
‘Something wrong?’ the girl walking next to her asked. She hesitated but it was no use pretending. ‘I’ve – not got much money.’
‘If you can’t afford to buy a coffee, just get a cup of water from the dispenser. It’s what I do when my money’s running low.’ She grimaced. ‘I’ve been unemployed for over a year now.’
It was wonderful to sit and chat, though the group went silent when she told them she had a baby and lived on her own.
‘Phew! That must be hard work,’ one of them said.
Janey shrugged. ‘It’s worth it.’
After the group broke up, she had time before her next class, so went to the library to start finding her way around it. She was tempted to nip over to the crèche to check on Millie, but didn’t really have time to do that. She worried though, kept thinking of her baby and hoping she wasn’t upset. They’d not been separated for so long since she brought Millie home from hospital.
The next class was run by a woman totally without a sense of humour, but at least she knew her stuff. It wasn’t half as interesting, though, because the woman talked at them and didn’t give them much opportunity to discuss anything.
As they were leaving, one of the younger guys started walking alongside her. ‘She’s an old tight-knickers, isn’t she? Want to come for a coffee?’
It took Janey a minute to realise he was chatting her up. She hadn’t expected that somehow and wasn’t sure how to deal with it. In the end, she said, ‘Thanks, but I want to go and check on my daughter. It’s her first day at the crèche.’
He gaped at her. ‘Daughter!’
She held her head high. ‘Yes. I’m a single mother.’
‘You don’t look old enough to have a child.’
She shrugged and was turning away when he said mildly, ‘I was only inviting you for a coffee. I’d still like you to come.’
He had a nice smile. She was tempted. It was so long since a guy had even looked at her with interest. You became sort of invisible when you were behind a baby buggy. ‘Another time, maybe. I really do have to check up on Millie.’