And then, half-term arrived and one day there she was, all perky and bright getting out of her new Ford Anglia, which, William noticed with irritation from his window, matched her burgundy lipstick and shoes.
Robert, Howard and Evelyn were standing in the hall, the first time they had been together since the dreadful evening of the ‘Miserere’. Still in his room, he put the suitcase that Robert thought had been packed for two days back on top of his wardrobe, breathed in deeply and walked downstairs.
‘Here you are!’ Evelyn watched him descend, beaming. She registered his empty hands and her smile hardened. ‘Everything’s ready for our big adventure.’ She tried to take his hand but he pulled it out of her reach.
‘I don’t want an adventure.’
Evelyn didn’t miss a beat. ‘You’ll meet people your own age. All the young men down there sing in choirs.’
‘I don’t want to sing. I want to be an embalmer. Here.’
‘How can you possibly know that?’ Her smile was getting weaker, her tone sharper.
‘Because I’ve been doing it. Every day.’ From the corner of his eye, he saw Robert and Howard look at each other.
‘For goodness’ sake, Robert.’ Her head swung to him. ‘A fourteen-year-old boy spending his time in a funeral home? What were you thinking?’
‘It was my idea,’ William interjected. ‘I’m good at it, aren’t I, Uncle Robert?’
Robert looked, helpless, from William to Evelyn.
Frustration swept afresh across her face as she turned on the two men. ‘Will you ever accept that William is my son, not yours!’ Robert and Howard met her furious gaze with their own, but said nothing. ‘It’s such a waste!’ She turned back to William, thumping the side of her thighs, making her bag slide down her arm. ‘You’ve got a gift. I won’t let you throw it away.’
‘If anyone threw it away, it was you.’
At that, Evelyn’s body stiffened. All her agitation and frustration seemed to concentrate on her stillness. She studied William’s face as if Howard and Robert weren’t there any more. ‘Are you going to hold that moment against me until the day I die?’ she asked softly.
William shrugged, worrying that if he spoke, he’d lose his resolve.
‘You know, William, I think I miss you as much as I miss your father. I don’t know where he’s gone, but the boy I raised has disappeared.’
He really thought he might be about to cry, and for some reason, at that moment, he knew this must be avoided at all costs. He turned his back on all of them, climbed the stairs, closed the door to his room, and sat on the bed.
‘Evelyn, this was not my doing.’ Robert’s voice eventually broke the hostile silence. ‘I’ve never encouraged him and I’ve never countenanced him staying here beyond this week. This … this determination has come from him alone.’
‘You say that’ – William recognised his mother’s tone; shaky but steely all at once – ‘but ever since he was born, you’ve wanted to get your hands on him. I’ve seen the way you look at him, like he’s yours!’
‘Really, Evelyn?’ said Howard, with an edge of anger in his voice. ‘Still this? You know, the tragedy is that Paul adored you. You never had anything to be jealous of.’
‘I did!’ she batted back. ‘I was jealous of how you came swanning into this family with enough love for everyone when I only seemed to have enough for Paul and William. You made me look as if I never had enough love.’ There was a pause, then: ‘What are you grimacing at, Robert?’
‘Do you want William to hear this?’ Robert replied.
‘Of course I don’t!’ She raised her voice. ‘But what I want and what I get rarely match up, Robert. I want my son to come and live with me, but evidently he doesn’t.’
‘So what are we going to do?’ Robert said. ‘Frogmarch him to the car?’
During the next silence, William found himself worrying that they hadn’t even offered her a cup of tea. It was three hours from Wales to here. She must have been thirsty, and hungry. William tasted salt in the corner of his mouth. He wiped his face.
Then her feet were running up the stairs and his door opened so fast, he jumped. Her eyes were hectic, but she stood in the doorway composed, and when she spoke, it was slow and calm.
‘I can’t force you to come with me, and I can’t force you to forgive me, so I’m going. I love you, and there’ll always be a home for you with me, but I’m not going to write any more letters for you to ignore, or call you on the phone for you to refuse to speak to me. When you’re ready, I’ll be there.’
William waited a minute, then followed her down the stairs.
‘I’ll be in touch about sending you money,’ she said to Robert as she walked out of the front door. Robert stared at the ground, flexing his jaw.
‘Don’t you want a cup of tea?’ William couldn’t help but shout from halfway up the stairs, gripping the banister.
She turned, and for a brief moment, they actually saw each other. Breaking the connection, she shook her head. ‘Not to worry, I’ll get something on the road.’
So they stood on the driveway and watched her get in the car. She didn’t even look at him before she drove away.
He watched her car reduce to the size of a postage stamp, a small but powerful pressure point of pain in his sternum.
38