I wait until I hear the door to the Annexe close before I drain my last can of beer. But my frustration gets the better of me and I drop it to the floor and stamp on it. Perhaps I’m being paranoid, but something tells me that Mia is watching me right now. No, it’s not paranoia. I’m sure she is. Because if the roles were reversed, I would be doing exactly the same thing to her as she is doing to me. Watching and waiting to see how I’ll react, because we’re only ever our true selves when we think we are alone.
Maybe I should have told Mia the whole truth rather than the abridged version. It’s difficult to know what to do or say for the best. So instead, I played it safe and gave her snippets – not lies, but not the full story either. However, she’s not the kind of person who’s satisfied with a half-truth.
Abigail Douglas. Precious Johnson. I didn’t know either girl well, that much was true, but I recall them being kind to me. And I guess back then, my definition of kindness was kids who didn’t yell ‘dumb shit’ at me because of my poor reading and writing skills, or ‘Two-Face’ from the Batman comics for the vascular birthmark on my forehead and eyelid.
It’s no wonder that from the age of twelve, when everything at home was gradually worsening, I spent much of my time sneaking out and hanging around with a gang of older boys on the old rec. I might have been the youngest,
but puberty had arrived early, giving me height and breadth. My need to belong somewhere was so strong that it didn’t matter if it was a group that didn’t have my best interests at heart. With these fellow outcasts, I was accepted. We wasted many of our nights drinking cheap alcohol or sniffing glue or the contents of aerosol cans sprayed into empty crisp packets. It didn’t matter where the buzz came from as long as it carried me away from my miserable reality.
I’d do anything to fit in or impress. I’d volunteer to shoplift booze or snacks from the supermarket, and when that wasn’t enough to satisfy my craving for their approval, I took it further with burglary and theft. But I was always careful never to get caught. And then one summer’s afternoon, my luck ran out.
Finn knows very little of my childhood. He has no idea of the lengths I have gone to – and continue to go to – in protecting him from the truth. The first day I held him in my arms, I was unsure of his arrival in our world. But I vowed he would be better than me. I even pinned my hopes on him being the Band-Aid with which Debbie and I would cover the wounds of the past and stop the infection from returning. But it didn’t work. He didn’t work. I failed him. And God only knows what damage has been inflicted on him that the eye can’t see.
For most of his life, Debbie has made me feel as if I was intruding on the two of them. I don’t think she even consciously meant to. But there was not enough of Finn to share, so I backed off. First and foremost he is her son, and then he is mine. One of the biggest regrets of my life – and I have more than most – is that I didn’t fight harder for him.
It was only when we were renovating his cursed house together that we really started to get to know one another. Until we found what we found in the attic. Now we are back to working in our own fields and we are as far apart again as the sun and the moon. He doesn’t know that our time
together is running out. I wish that I could be honest with him about everything. But I can’t place that burden on his shoulders. It’s unfair.
I hear a car pulling into the drive so I pick up my can and push it deep into the bin with the others and where Debbie is unlikely to find them. She approaches me, leaning heavily on her stick. As each month passes, she becomes that bit less mobile. We both know it but we rarely address it. There is so much that we keep from one another.
‘Hi,’ she says and gives me a peck on the cheek. ‘How were the girls?’
‘Same as ever,’ she says. ‘Lots of moaning about husbands and work.’ She sees through my smile. ‘What’s wrong?’
I clear my throat. ‘Mia knows about Abigail, Precious and I.’
She arches her eyebrows, lowers her voice and looks towards the Annexe. ‘Exactly what does she know?’
‘That we went to school together.’ ‘How?’
I explain how I followed her to the crematorium. She’s surprised I went to such lengths but doesn’t question me. ‘She has a photograph,’ I add.
‘Of what?’
‘Of the girls and me in the same class.’
Debbie makes no attempt to hide her annoyance. ‘Why didn’t you tell me about any of this sooner?’
‘I didn’t want to worry you.’
She shakes her head vigorously. ‘Dave, I need to know sooner in future. If Mia is poking her nose in business that doesn’t concern her, you have to tell me immediately so that I can protect you.’ She hesitates and I give her the time she needs to consider our options. ‘What did you tell her?’
‘That I barely knew them.’ ‘And did she believe you?’ ‘Yes, I think so,’ I lie.
‘Well, that’s something, I suppose. But you have to promise you won’t keep anything else from me. This family only works when we are united. We cannot let her interfere with that.’
‘Okay.’
She rests her stick up against a patio chair and takes a seat. She’s quietly working out her plan of attack, so I give her space. I let out a long, beery breath from the far corner of my mouth, conscious of how much I’ve drunk today. I stare at the woman I have spent most of my life with, hoping to spot glimmers of the girl I fell in love with. I’m not usually an emotional man, but the urge to cry and hold on to her for dear life threatens to consume me. Because it won’t be long before she is forced to manage alone all that life throws at her.
I grit my teeth and vow to protect her for as long as I can. I also need to keep a closer eye on my daughter-in-law. If she continues to poke at the wasps’ nest, she will end up getting stung.
