Heroic

by Phil Earle

  Jamm drained the last of his can and looked interested. ‘Why, what else has been going on?’

  ‘Nothing,’ I snapped.

  ‘Plenty,’ laughed Wiggs.

  ‘You can shut up as well,’ I shot at him. Why was I suddenly the big enemy?

  ‘We got into a few rucks,’ started Den.

  ‘What kind of rucks?’ Jamm leaned down for another can.

  ‘The tasty kind. And things got a bit messy, with, er, with Hitch.’

  Jamm did a comedy look around the room, like he’d only just realized someone was missing. He was leathered.

  ‘Where is Hitch anyway?’ he slurred. ‘He should be here.’

  ‘That’s just it,’ offered Wiggs. ‘Nobody knows.’

  That was it for me. I knew exactly where this was going and where it’d end up. With me in the dock again.

  ‘Do we have to do this now?’ I asked. ‘Jamm’s battered. We’ll only have to tell him again tomorrow …’

  ‘Tell me now.’ His eyes weren’t focusing, but his brain wanted details.

  ‘Sonny had this idea, you see …’ started Wiggy, a sentence that had me heading to the door.

  ‘Knackers to this. I know what happens so you can get on with it. I’ll be downstairs waiting when you’ve finished. Come and give me a kicking then if you want.’

  It was childish, I know, but I’d had enough. All right, it might have been my fault, all of it, but I didn’t need reminding. So, stropping like a five-year-old, I grabbed a beer and stormed through the door.

  I stood on the walkway for half an hour, sipping a can I didn’t want, waiting for grief I didn’t fancy much either. But by the time the beer was gone, I was still on my own. So, with curiosity nibbling, I went back inside to find Jamm comatose on the settee, a manky old blanket thrown on top of him.

  ‘All too much for him, was it?’ I asked sheepishly.

  ‘Dunno,’ shrugged Den. ‘He took it all in. Wasn’t too happy about it. Wanted to get out there and find him.’

  ‘Only problem was,’ butted in Wiggs, ‘he was too drunk to stand up. He tried a few times but couldn’t manage a step. Two minutes later he was asleep.’

  I sighed and rubbed at my head. ‘I should try and get him home.’

  ‘Are you mad? Take one of his tanks to lift him up. Leave him here to sleep it off.’

  ‘And what do I tell Mum?’

  ‘Do what you always do.’

  ‘What’s that?’

  ‘Spin her a line. Lie.’

  I laughed, but it wasn’t funny. I could do that. Course I could. Without breaking sweat. But I didn’t want to, not this time. It was all beginning to wear a bit thin.

  Sonny

  It must have been one hell of a hangover, as for the next two days Jammy went AWOL. And you can imagine how well that went down with Mum. About as well as a cup of cold sick.

  The first morning she was mildly irritated, not that he’d been drinking (‘If anyone deserves a blow out it’s Jammy’), but by the fact that I hadn’t brought him home with me.

  ‘Could you not look after him for once?’ she’d moaned. ‘The lad’s slept in barracks for the past three months. He should be resting in his own bed.’

  Part of me wanted to tell her he was tucked up safely on Den’s settee, but that would only earn me more grief. She always moaned about how dirty his place was.

  ‘He’s nearly nineteen. He wanted to keep on drinking. I didn’t.’

  ‘You’re sixteen. You shouldn’t have been drinking at all!’

  I gave her my finest look and reached for my jacket from the back of the chair.

  ‘Where are you off to?’

  ‘Out.’

  ‘Where to?’

  ‘To find him.’

  ‘Tell him to ring me …’

  ‘If I find him I’ll push him back in a diamond-encrusted wheelchair. Good enough for you?’

  ‘Just bring him home, will you? He’s done the same for you often enough.’

  I closed the door behind me, felt the pressure of her words, and headed immediately for Cam’s. It’d only been thirty-six hours, but it felt like more.

  By the time I crossed the estate it felt like another thirty-six hours had passed.

  Jamm’s fame had spread beyond the local paper to regional telly. Turns out coming home a live war hero, instead of a dead one, was a real turn-up for the books.

  The evening news had run a piece covering both Tommo’s parade and Jamm’s exploits, and you wouldn’t believe the number of people who walked up to me, not just to say they’d seen the piece, but that they knew Jamm had been destined for great things.

  I tried to be civil. Wasn’t like I wasn’t proud too, but by the time the tenth old bloke came up to me, I felt about two feet tall in comparison.

  ‘Taught him everything he knows,’ I bragged. ‘Those moves he pulled on al-Qaeda? All came from me.’ They soon shuffled off once I threw a sequence of intentionally rubbish karate kicks in their direction.

  It felt good to have a smile back on my face, but I was soon crashing back down when Cam opened the door, her face as pale as it had been when I saw her last.

  She was stripped of make-up, but she’d cried so much it was like the tears had scarred her face, long tracks stretching from the corner of her eyes until they disappeared at her chin.

  ‘Hello, gorgeous,’ I whispered, trying a weak smile and meaning every word. Even at her worst she still took my breath away. I just wished I could say it without sounding like a sleaze.

  Taking her hand, which felt like paper, I led her through to the silence of the lounge. Even the clock had stopped ticking, either out of respect, or fear of Larry.

  ‘Your dad in?’ I asked, slightly apprehensive.

  She shook her head, her voice raspy, like the crying had bruised her throat too.

  ‘Not since you left. Just as well. God knows what he would’ve done when Jammy was here.’

  ‘He said he’d been round. I’m sorry I wasn’t here. I didn’t know he was coming, otherwise I would’ve …’

  She sat slowly, cutting me off mid-stream. ‘It’s probably just as well you weren’t here really.’

  I knew what she meant, or part of me did. The rational part, but that was being sat on by about three tons of irrational stuff, which instantly took over.

  ‘What do you mean by that?’

  Cam lifted her eyes from the tissue she’d been wrapping round her fingers. I must have looked massively hacked off.

  ‘Don’t be like that, Sonny. You know what I mean.’

  ‘No, I don’t know. I’m confused, I thought you could lean on me …’

  ‘And I can, but me and Mum needed to see Jamm too. You get that, don’t you? He was the last one to see Tomm. We needed to hear things from him …’

  ‘Course you did.’ I could literally feel the blood simmering as it zipped round my body, but instead of recognizing that and backing off, I ploughed on. ‘And what did he say to you?’

  I saw a new emotion spark in her eyes as she pushed herself upwards, wrestling for my hands, which I wouldn’t give her.

  ‘Sonny, you’re being ridiculous. There was nothing that you’re imagining. He told us what it was like to see his mate, my brother, die in front of him. Now that might not mean much to you, but it did to me and Mum. Brave, it was.’

  ‘Oh yeah, that sums him up perfectly. Everyone’s favourite hero, is Jammy.’

  Any attempt from her to touch me stopped.

  ‘I can’t believe you’re being like this.’

  ‘Like what?’

  ‘Jealous, Sonny. You’re acting like a kid. This is your brother we’re talking about. The one who’s always stood up for you, for all of us.’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ I tried, not really meaning it. ‘I’m not jealous. I’m just freaked out by it all.’

  ‘You’re freaked out? It’s not your brother who’s been killed, is it?’ I thought she was going to be sick at saying the word. ‘You should thin
k about everything you’ve still got!’

  ‘That’s just it, though, Cam. I’m worried. There’s something going on with Jamm.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘The way he’s acting. It’s not like him.’

  ‘And that’s a surprise? It’s only a week since everything happened. Wouldn’t you be a bit freaked out?’

  ‘Probably, but it’s more than that. How many times have you seen Jamm use his fists in his life? How many times has he really lost his rag?’

  ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘Well, think about it.’

  ‘I don’t know, Sonny. Not many. Five or six?’

  ‘First night back he went for me twice.’

  ‘The way you’ve hacked me off today I don’t blame him.’

  I jumped on her. ‘Come on, Cam, please, listen to me. It’s not what Jammy does, is it? Despite everything that goes on round here, it’s never been his way. That’s why it’s weird. First he lamps me because he thinks I’m a burglar. All right, I get that. But second time, in the middle of the night, and completely unprovoked, he tries to strangle me.’

  ‘What do you mean, strangle you?’

  ‘Exactly that. He was having a dream. Rolling around and moaning about Tomm and some bloke called Wayne.’

  ‘So he was having a nightmare. It happens.’

  ‘But that’s just it. In the end, he wasn’t sleeping. He was looking straight at me. He might not have known where he was, but he knew he was strangling someone. You can’t tell me that’s normal?’

  ‘Course it’s not, but he must have had a reason. What did he say about it?’

  ‘Well, nothing. I haven’t spoken to him about it.’

  She was losing patience with me quickly. It looked like she could barely keep her eyes open either.

  ‘So, something happens that really freaks you out. Your brother tries to throttle you and you don’t mention it to him? Yeah, that makes sense.’

  ‘No, it doesn’t. None of it does. All I know is that my brother’s back, and everyone wants to either kiss his back-end or protect it. It’s like I can’t say anything that might upset him, even though I can see things aren’t right. Why won’t anyone believe me?’

  Cam let out a long, slow breath, sagging as the air fell from her. ‘I can’t do this now, Sonny. But to me it sounds like Jamm’s not the only one who’s confused. If you’re worried about him, do something about it. Talk to him, talk to your mum.’

  ‘Yeah, that’ll help.’

  ‘Sonny, get over yourself!’ she snapped. ‘The only one seeing these problems is you, and you won’t do anything about it but sulk. Well, that won’t help me, and I need help. I need you, and I need Jammy. So sort it out.’

  I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. ‘What do you mean you need him? You’ve got me.’

  ‘But sometimes, Sonny, that’s just not enough. Maybe Jamm understands some things that you don’t.’

  ‘Sounds to me like you’ve made up your mind.’

  ‘About what?’

  ‘About which brother really matters to you.’

  She threw her arms in the air with such force that I thought she was about to take off.

  ‘Sonny, I’m not doing this. Not now. This is your issue, not mine. Don’t you think I’ve got enough to deal with?’

  She turned for the door, and in that second I realized I was about three steps away from wrecking everything.

  ‘Cam, I’m sorry,’ I babbled, stopping the door before she could open it. She didn’t bother turning to face me. ‘I’m an idiot.’

  ‘That’s just it, though, Sonny, you’re not. You just behave like one. You really think I’d be with you if I thought otherwise?’

  ‘Then I’ll sort it out. I promise.’

  ‘There’s nothing to sort except your own head. If you think there’s a problem with Jammy then deal with it. I can’t do it for you.’

  ‘No, you’re right. I will, and I’ll tell him about us too. Soon as he surfaces.’

  The look she gave me wasn’t the one I expected. ‘You really think that’s the priority right now?’ She reached for the door again. ‘Look, I need to sleep.’

  ‘Then let me stay. Just till you drop off.’

  ‘No. I think you should go.’ Finally she turned, the smile on her face weak. ‘For now. Don’t you?’

  I should’ve told her it was fine, that she was right, shown some sense for once. But I didn’t. Instead I defaulted to idiot Sonny, scowling at her before heading for the front door.

  And do you know what I thought as it slammed behind me?

  I bet Jammy’s already in her room. That’s why she wants me out.

  That’s how wrong I got it. That’s what an idiot I really was.

  Sonny

  Cam’s words looped in my head for the next day and a half.

  Sort it out.

  Talk to Jammy.

  Sound advice if he was around, but he wasn’t. So instead of talking to him about what had gone on, I was left to try and calm Mum down. If people thought I was losing the plot, they should have taken a look in her direction.

  She was still going to work, but would turn up back at the flat between shifts, just in case he was back. And when he wasn’t? Her paranoia got worse.

  ‘Where has he got to? Have you tried his mobile again?’

  ‘It’s off, Mum. Same as before.’

  Round in a circle we went, every conversation we had making our fears worse and worse, until finally, when he did show up, we didn’t know whether to kiss his face or hit it.

  In fact, scratch that, as from the state of him there was no way I was putting my lips anywhere near him. It’s hard to sum up just how lousy he looked, but I couldn’t help but see him in my head when he left for Afghanistan, every inch of him pressed and slick.

  The only slick thing about him now was the grease that clung to his hair. The rest of him needed sealing in concrete and dumping in the North Sea. His clothes hung limply off him and stains littered his shirt, some of which looked like blood, though it could’ve easily been chilli sauce.

  ‘Jammy!’ Mum cried, almost tipping the kitchen table on top of me, tea and all. ‘Are you all right?’

  He obviously realized how rank he looked as he held his hands in front of him, warding her off. ‘I’m fine, Mum, honest. I … er … lost track of time.’ His grin was cheeky: he knew exactly what he was doing and how easily he could win her over.

  ‘Are you hungry? I can rustle up some tea if you like.’

  ‘Or he could just lick his t-shirt. Looks like there’s half a kebab still on it.’ It was my lame attempt at a joke to smooth things over, but I doubted it sounded that way.

  ‘I’m not hungry, honest. Listen, sorry for disappearing. Wasn’t like I intended to. I just needed to blow off some steam and when I ran into some old mates things got a bit out of hand.’

  He said it so easily it was hard not to believe him, but then again I had no idea who the ‘old mates’ were. Den and Wiggs had seen nothing of him. So unless he’d bumped into Hitch I knew he was being selective with the truth.

  Mum didn’t bother dissecting his story, though, she was too relieved to see him in one piece. She set about running a bath, filling the flat with some awful smelling soaps. Which left us two on our own in silence.

  ‘You calmed down yet?’ he asked finally, after necking a pint of water.

  ‘I have. You?’

  ‘Yeah, I’m sorry I lost it with you. I’d forgotten how annoying you can be.’ He was trying to joke with me like he had with Mum.

  ‘I know I’m annoying, Jamm, but I’m not a liar.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘What I said in front of the others. About you going for me in the night. It happened, you know.’ It was risky, going into it again, but I was trying to do the right thing, like I’d promised Cam.

  He turned from me to fill up his glass again. ‘Why are you saying all this? Where’s it coming from?’


  ‘Can’t you remember?’

  ‘Remember what?’

  He was so convincing, I was beginning to doubt myself.

  ‘Strangling me. I’ve only just tweezered out the last fingernail from where you left it.’ I pointed at my neck, annoyed that there were no bruises for him to see.

  There was a pause again as he drank, but no sign of recognition once he stopped. Instead he looked at me and spoke, voice slow and clear.

  ‘Sonny, I’ve no idea what you’re going on about.’

  ‘You must have.’

  He shook his head. ‘Is this something to do with Tomm? That you’d rather he’d come home instead of me? Well, no one wishes that more than me. You know you can blame me for him being dead, but don’t blame me for any of this other stuff. You hear me?’

  There was a steel to his words, an iciness in his bloodshot eyes that stopped me from coming straight back at him. How could I do anything about the situation when he refused point blank to admit that anything was even wrong?

  The only option I had was the one I feared most. Telling Mum. But how did I do that without alienating her too?

  ‘Your bath’s ready.’ She’d appeared, towel in hand. ‘And leave your clothes by the door, I’ll get them soaking.’ She saw our faces, full of tension. ‘Everything OK?’

  ‘Fine,’ he answered, best smile caked on.

  ‘Right. Good.’ I could tell she wanted to question me too. ‘By the way, Jammy, not something to worry about now, but there’s been a journalist calling for you.’

  I saw his face switch to terrified in seconds. ‘What does he want?’

  ‘I don’t know, love. To talk to you? There’s a lot of people very proud of what you did.’

  ‘Well, I don’t want to talk to him. You tell him that if he calls back.’ He’d gone again, his mood flipping quicker than a coin. ‘I don’t want you speaking to him either.’

  Mum’s mouth fell open.

  ‘I mean it. We don’t speak to him. Any of us.’ He was aiming that at me. But Mum wasn’t finished.

  ‘Hey. I don’t know what it is that bothers you about this, but you have nothing to be ashamed of. Do you hear me?’