‘I just told you. I always come in here to see how you are.’
‘I am so sick of your bullshit–’
‘Sick? Yeah, you’re sick alright.’ Billy lobbed the insult at her, stepped right up to the bedside and leaned over her. She cowered from him. ‘Every fucking night, I come in here and check you aren’t puking in your sleep after all the booze you’ve swilled. I always put you in the recovery position, just in case. Because I worry about you. All the time.’
On seeing her reaction, her anger deflated and her guilt resurfacing, Billy was sure he had convinced her. He stood upright again, looking down his nose at the wreck of a woman who had somehow acted as a maternal host to his superior genes. Then she hit back.
‘Don’t give me that, you bloody liar. I know what you’ve been doing–’
‘Really? Doing what – other than being the sole caregiver to my drunken mother? And her demented mother? For years I’ve been putting up with it – with no word of thanks. Nothing. Pah! I’m going to bed.’
Billy turned to go, but she fired another salvo, hurling herself out of the bed at him.
‘You’ve been tampering with my gin and vodka. I know you have, so don’t deny it. What have you been putting in the bottles?’ He turned back, startled again, finally realising she was stone cold sober. But how? Her voice was shrill and jarring as she levelled accusations at him. ‘Rat poison? Is that it? You want to kill me, Billy? Your own mother?’
‘Poison? Haha! You think I’m trying to do away with you, like a filthy rodent?’ He giggled at the inanity of it all. ‘You are a bloody pest, but you’ve been doing such a bang-up job of killing yourself, why would I need to bother?’ He shook his head, as if disgusted by her stupidity, at thinking he would do anything to harm her.
‘Okay, not rat poison, then. What have you been doctoring my drink with? And stop with the smug smirk or I will slap it off your face, young man.’
Just you try it, you witch.
She was in front of him glaring up at his eyes, livid. He put his hands on her shoulders as if to reassure, and she flinched as he grabbed her.
Good.
‘Listen to me. I put some sedative in your drink to help you. Okay. I admit it.’ Her mouth opened, ready to scold him again, but he could see she was having doubts. He pressed home his advantage. ‘You’ve been drinking so much I thought your liver would pack up. I just wanted to knock you out, so you couldn’t drink yourself to death.’
All certainty at her discovery dribbled away, and he could feel her shoulders slump as he spoke. He had her again, quite literally in the palm of his hands. Had done for years.
‘You drugged me? You thought that would help me?’
‘Yes, I did. It helped me too.’ The snarl in his voice was back, and he shoved her on to the bed so hard she fell, sprawled across it. ‘If you weren’t so fucking selfish you’d realise how hard it’s been for me. But no, all you think of is yourself. Drowning in booze and downing painkillers like the junkie you are.’ He shook a furious fist at her as she tried to sit up. ‘If Social Services knew half of what I’ve had to put up with, they would’ve taken me into care years ago. My dad was right about you. You really are a useless, self-centred bitch.’
His mother’s anger dissipated as her face folded in on itself. She clamped a hand over her mouth trying to stop the sobs.
Satisfied with the outcome of their unexpected confrontation, Billy left her wallowing in misery, guilt and a flood of tears.
***
Monday: Combustion
Judy put the finishing touches to her make-up while Colin showered. She wanted today to be as normal as possible, despite the charred wreck at the end of their garden – and the police officers Colin had warned her would be crawling all over the place today. Judy was going to go to work.
A normal Monday morning.
Well, not really, but she would do her best. Her regular run hadn’t happened. When the alarm went off at six she had tottered to the bathroom and spent her waking moments retching, thanks to Colin’s alien DNA, now growing inside her, sending her immune system into overdrive.
Just get back to work.
Judy’s weekdays were spent helping various charities raise money. Today, she was meeting with a local team of Cancer Research organisers and would be participating in several of their events in the coming months. Her time was given freely as she had no need to earn more money, and no desire to get back on the career treadmill either, despite having once been a high-flying civil servant.
Been there, done that.
Tragedy had diverted her from her careerist life, and now she helped others less fortunate. Then tragedy had hit home again, yesterday, with Judy initially convinced it was just an awful and unfortunate accident. Until her ride home with Colin.
His explanation had been evasive at first, and she had pressed him to tell her everything. She understood his reluctance when he finally blurted the name of the boy they suspected may have been responsible.
On hearing it, Judy could not comprehend how this young man had somehow inveigled his way into their lives. Then her husband had admitted it… He’d invited the nephew of the man Judy blamed for the death of her mother, her son, and ex-husband, into their home.
Into their lives.
She had been unable to speak to him since.
Just the name ‘Leech’ made her tremble, sliding icicles of fear through her veins. That was bad enough, but as Colin’s explanation continued, relentlessly driving home his concerns, she just knew the Leech boy had evil in his genes.
With a start, she realised she was staring at her image, lipstick in her hand, poised at her mouth, frozen there.
I look bloody terrified. Come on, Judy! Snap out of it.
Colin wandered in from the shower, towelling himself, trying hard to be cheerful as he greeted her.
‘Good morning, my love. No run today?’
Be normal. Try harder.
‘No. I was a little sick when I woke.’ He stood behind her, a tentative grin on his face, then stooped and kissed the top of her head as she said, ‘I’ll get over it. Just a little morning sickness. It didn’t last long with Josh.’
‘That’s good to know, sweetheart. I’m heading out with Jack shortly, so I’ll see you tonight. And thank you. For understanding.’
Judy nodded. Tried to smile, but could not.
Bloody Jack.
‘Just take care of yourself, Colin.’
‘I will. I promise. They’ve adjusted my medication. My blood pressure ended up way too low and that caused me to faint.’
‘I know all that.’ She turned and stood, kissed him on the lips. He grinned and wiped at the lipstick with the back of his hand. ‘I mean, be careful of the Leech boy. That family…’ She sighed, went to the door, looked back at him and completed the thought. ‘That family has done enough damage to us already. Felix died yesterday, too. At our home. And there are three of us now.’ She laid a protective hand on her belly as she spoke. ‘Remember that, while you’re out with your detective friend. Take no risks, Colin.’
‘I won’t.’
‘Promise me.’
‘I promise.’
Judy nodded, and left him, standing in his towel, red smeared across his lips, his expression uncertain. Not for the first time, a worrying thought came unbidden:
He looks so vulnerable.
With a final glance back at him from the doorway, she had the urge to hug him, and not let go.
Bloody hormones.
She clambered down the stairs, thinking, Is the Leech boy really so dangerous? Judy hoped not, and as she got into her car, she tried to convince herself everything would be alright.
A police car passed her in the driveway and parked outside their front door, and despite her best efforts to feel otherwise, seeing it merely confirmed the feeling she’d had since the boat went up in flames.
The conviction that nothing would ever be the same again.
***
‘It’s not surprisi
ng she shit herself the night before last.’ Billy held up an empty carton for Suzie’s benefit as she entered the kitchen. His nose crinkled and his lips folded back in disgust as he tossed it in the bin. ‘She guzzled all that prune juice you bought her last week, to help loosen her bowels. Must’ve been during another one of her regular midnight trips to the kitchen.’ He snorted and stared at her. ‘And you look even more dreadful than usual. Guilty conscience stop you sleeping last night, did it? After falsely accusing your own son of poisoning you?’
The accuracy of his words made her want to melt into the tiles and disappear. Just like a character she had seen in a movie during happier times, before life had dealt her its devastating and debilitating blows. Suzie’s night had been spent tossing and turning, thinking and sobbing, regretting her outburst while still harbouring suspicions about her son. Her mind was not as sharp as it might otherwise have been, but this morning she had been determined to have it out with him over breakfast. Of course, he was already up and about – she had not heard him sneak past her bedroom, even without any booze or drugs dulling her senses.
‘We still need to talk, Billy.’ She pulled up a chair as he slurped cereal and milk into his mouth while standing, leaning his back against the fridge, his ankles crossed, his eyes disdainful. ‘Sit down, son.’
‘Talk about what? Why my mother’s a drunk, perhaps? Or how I have to look out for her and her mother? Every day, every night? Pfah!’ His spoon clattered in his bowl as he dumped both on the worktop. ‘I’m going for a shower. I need to be out early today. Or did you forget?’
Despite racking her brains, she had no idea what he was talking about. He probably told her while she was pissed. Another spike of guilt, hammered into her heart.
‘Forget what?’
‘Haha! Yeah, you did. Useless…’
He was at the kitchen door already, and clearly had no intention of joining Suzie for ‘a talk’. She saw his shoulders tense as she told him:
‘I’m going to have the residue in those bottles tested. You’d better be telling me the truth.’
He spun, leapt at the table in one fluid movement, and slammed both fists down as he landed. She felt the pine slab shudder and crack under the impact and flinched at the raw power unleashed by her boy. That aura of menace, one she had noticed only recently, was back, and his face was wild.
Good God!
‘You listen to me. I’ve had enough of your whingeing. I checked online last night after your little outburst. You’ve been guilty of criminal negligence as the supposedly responsible adult in charge of this child. They’ve imprisoned junkies like you for less. So enough of the sanctimonious crap, eh, Mother?’
He tried to stare her down, and she felt herself wither under his gaze. There was nothing she wanted more right now than to sip a bottle of linctus or down a few cocktails. Preferably both. Instead, she answered him, though her fluttering voice betrayed her lack of confidence as she made her accusations.
‘You told my mother lies. That I think she owes me this house, for the money they received after I was raped. You found out about that by rooting through the boxes in the basement. I didn’t shout about that, or the abortion, or anything else, did I? I didn’t go to Lakeside either – have never been there. But you told her I had. You’re a liar, Billy Leech. Just like your father and your uncle.’
She thought she saw a shimmer of doubt swim behind his eyes for a fraction of a second, but it was gone so swiftly she was unsure. Then he laid into her again.
‘Oh, brilliant. Detective. Not!’ He tapped her temple using an index finger with the texture of granite, bruising thin flesh as he emphasised each word with an agonising tap. ‘Yes, I did dig around down there…’
She pulled her head away from his finger, and slammed her own palms on the table. ‘I knew it!’
‘Only to confirm some of the stuff you’ve been ranting about when pissed. Why? So I could put Nana’s mind at rest.’
‘Don’t lie to me – you’ve been deliberately telling her things to upset–’
‘SHUT UP!’ The murderous scowl on his face brought Suzie’s husband to mind again, and how he had looked when he admitted to his crimes to her the night he died. ‘You can’t remember anything. You and your big ugly mouth, screaming stuff no one wants to hear. Poor Nana, she was in bits about it all, so I had to be sure. Yet more of your bullshit that I’ve had to clear up. Fuck you. I’m going out with Smiffy today. We have some fieldwork to do. I’ll be back tonight. Or maybe I won’t.’
Then he was gone. An angry tornado thumping up the stairs. For once, she could hear him, but wished she could not.
What have I done?
After her discoveries the previous day, she was certain her boy had been playing some evil game with her and her mother, but now, all confidence had evaporated and she wondered if she was suffering some post-alcoholic delusions of her own.
And the worst of it was, much of what he said was true. She had let him down, had not been a good mother. Not been any sort of mother, and for so long. A boy suffering his own trauma, a lonely bullied boy who was not even allowed to attend school.
It’s my fault. I’ve screwed up everything…
Suzie would have cried, except her tears were all used up, soaked into the pillow and sheets on her bed. She was wrung out, dehydrated, and suffering from a lack of sleep. Her reserves were depleted from the abuse she’d heaped on her body, and now crushing guilt was threatening to push her back into the old cycle.
It hadn’t been so bad, being wrapped in the embrace of morphine and alcohol. She licked her lips, then opened the empty gin bottle. Sniffed at it. Felt a tremor tickle her belly. A craving.
The doorbell snapped her out of it. Angry with herself for her weakness, she screwed the cap on so tight that the thread broke. Then she heard Billy’s voice, muffled, greeting Mr Smith, then the door slammed behind them.
Suzie forced herself to make some boiled eggs, toast and coffee for herself and her mother, and took them to Nana’s room.
Thankfully, there was no smell of urine or faecal matter to greet Suzie today, just lavender and cool morning air gusting in through an open window. Her mother was sitting in her chair, wearing a summer dress. Her hair was neatly brushed too. She looked very pleased with herself as she greeted her daughter, a twinkle in her eye.
As Suzie placed the tray on the low table and sat in the chair opposite, she smiled, thinking how her mother seemed more like her old self.
Before Dad died.
‘Brrr. It’s a bit chilly in here. Here’s your breakfast.’ She sipped some coffee but the sight of the eggs made her feel queasy. ‘I’m just having a bit of toast.’
‘Thank you, love. I was just thinking I’d come down and eat with you both, but I ended up enjoying the view and the morning air. I feel so much better today. I took no medication at all yesterday, and I think it’s done me the power of good.’
Sedatives and antidepressants.
Thinking back on it, her mother had become more depressed as time went by. Less able, less alive, despite the drugs her doctor had prescribed. Yet another thing drunk Suzie had failed to see. At least they both seemed to be coming out of it now.
‘You should be careful with the stairs, Mum. I can always help you down. I’m horrified you’ve been wandering down them in the middle of the night, alone.’
‘Have I?’ Nana shrugged as she tucked into her eggs, and added, ‘I don’t remember. I think I’m going to stop taking any pills for a while. See how I feel.’
‘We’ll get you a proper check-up. Today. I’m taking you to a special clinic to have some tests. Just to be sure.’ She could see her mother was about to argue, but Suzie had not told her that her bedroom had been covered with filth just twenty-four hours earlier, and nor would she. No matter how well Nana felt, she was having a check-up. ‘I’ve already booked it.’ She chewed on some dry toast as her mother bit her lip, then nodded and spooned some egg yolk into her mouth. Good thing one of them h
ad an appetite today. ‘We’re going this morning, and afterwards, I’ll take you for lunch somewhere nice.’
‘Sounds lovely, dear. And so are these eggs.’ She was about to start her second already, but her knife hovered instead of decapitating it as she gave Suzie a confused look, her eyes squinting a little as she spoke. ‘I know my memory lapses have been getting worse. And after that time I fell down the stairs, well, it took the wind out of my sails. But I won’t take any more of those sedative things. They make me feel so woozy.’ Her eyes dropped to her plate again and her knife sliced the top of the egg off as she murmured, almost too low for Suzie to hear. ‘And I was hallucinating, it seemed, at times.’ Louder now. ‘I think that’s why I fell.’
‘The drugs?’ Suzie wondered too, but she wasn’t thinking about prescriptions. She forced some more toast into her mouth, chewed it for several seconds with insufficient saliva and nearly gagged as she swallowed it, her thoughts almost choking her too as the lump of bread lodged in her throat before slipping down to her gut. ‘Mmm. Maybe… What do you mean? About hallucinating?’
‘It was like a dream. Well, nightmare.’ Her mother was obviously still terrified by the memory, probably reliving it as she talked, Suzie thought, as she watched the quivering hands tackle another mouthful of egg. ‘One minute I was in here, the next, I was at the top of the stairs.’
‘What were you doing? Going to find more food?’
‘I’ve no idea, love.’ Her nose wrinkled and her face, still fearful, wore lines of confusion too. ‘Strange, though. Whenever I think about it since, I get a feeling of dread. It was as if someone was whispering into my ear at the top of the stairs. I thought it was your father’s voice, to begin with.’
‘Whispering?’
‘Mmm. It’s like he wanted me to join him.’
‘What?’ For Suzie, this was all startling news… It should not have been. She felt another tremor of guilt at being derelict in both her filial and her maternal duties. Could her mother have been suicidal too? She couldn’t stop the shock tinting her voice as she said, ‘You think you threw yourself down the stairs because you miss him so much? To be with him? Oh, Mum. That’s awful. I’m so sorry.’
Gaslighting (DP, DIC03) Page 18