‘For God’s sake, why are you being so awkward? You don’t have to do anything; I’ll take Jack with me.’ I knew I’d just made matters worse.
‘Jack is not going to miss out just because he has a self-centred, irresponsible mother. Go, just go, enjoy yourself.’ You began to call, ‘Jack? Jack? Come in here with Daddy. Daddy will look after you today. Come on, Jack.’ I knew Jack would be oblivious, sitting engrossed with the Tweenies. I wasn’t going to win. With a thumping head, I turned, resisting the urge to clout his smiling face as I left the room.
I was so upset leaving Jack behind. Although they wouldn’t admit it, Mum and Dad would be sad he wasn’t there too. I’d make the obligatory excuses and get through the day. A bittersweet day: I was going to miss them, but I couldn’t have the relationship I wanted anyway.
It was dark and late when I returned home. The house was in darkness. I’d called only a couple of hours before to say goodnight to Jack, but apparently he was having too good a time to speak to me. As I approached the house, I could just make out the flickering lights cast from the TV, then your shadow appeared as you jumped up, the TV lights disappeared. A light appeared on the landing upstairs, then the house submerged into complete darkness. You’d gone to bed. I crept up the steps to the front door and attempted to turn my key in the lock. It was pointless; the top bolt you insisted upon was locked. I knocked lightly on the wood so as not to disturb Jack. I don’t know why I bothered. This wasn’t a silly mistake; you’d deliberately locked me out. Again.
It was frosty and freezing but at least I could shelter in my car. I slumped myself back in and attempted to call you on your mobile. It diverted to voicemail. I wrapped my coat tightly around me, I wasn’t sure if the shivering was from the cold, or the nervousness I felt inside. Or maybe it was anger in its purest form. After a couple of minutes, my mobile buzzed on my lap.
Thank you for your help today. Hope you’re home safely now? Speak to you in the morning. Love you. Sleep tight xxx
I replied,
Pleasure. Home safely now, don’t worry. Sleep tight. Love you.
Xxx
Thank God they didn’t know the truth. I closed my eyes to avoid the inevitable tired and hopeless tears, just as a further text alerted me.
Why do you think it’s acceptable to come home so late? IT IS NOT.
You need to learn some responsibility. Jack and I have had a great day without you. But now you need to learn a lesson. You only have yourself to blame.
In a normal world, I’d have called a friend, called my parents, told them the truth. Left to stay somewhere, anywhere warm. But I couldn’t do that. I was not in a normal world. You had my bank cards again, so a B & B was out of the question. My world was horrid, insecure and unbearable. A world I was so ashamed of, I hated myself for allowing it to smother everything I was, everything important to me. A world that needed to end.
I remained in the car until the morning. My hands, feet and face being shades of pink, blue and white. Your silhouette eventually appeared behind the door, unlocked it without opening it. Your shadow stalked away from the glass panel next to the door. Upright and head held high. I sensed you humming your way around the rooms. Triumphant in your genius methods of punishment. Busying yourself with Jack as if all were normal.
Just another morning. Just another day. Another lesson taught. But for who? Me or Jack?
Chapter Twenty-Four
Cornwall 2016
I don’t want to worry you, Mum.
I’m scared about making you frightened but I’m scared too.
It was probably nothing after all. The floodlights were so bright but when I looked up, I saw a dark shadow. I carried on playing football, but when I looked up again, the shadow wasn’t a shadow anymore; it had become a man. A man in black. Dressed as a shadow. He was looking straight at me. I stopped and stared but someone ran into me. I stumbled to the floor. Bang; he was gone.
But I don’t want to frighten you. I don’t want us to go back to how it was before. It was probably nothing after all. My imagination, jumping from all the other stuff.
Why did this have to happen to us? Why did it have to happen to me? All of my friends have dads, not shadows. They all have memories, not nightmares.
I don’t want to run scared of the shadow any more. I want to be normal.
I hate him.
I wish he were dead.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Cornwall 2016
As we clear away dinner plates I find myself gazing out of the window, over towards the holly shrub. It’s grown. Jack and I planted it the day we moved in, such a deep hole I’d needed to dig. The holly shrub, my nan once told me, is a symbol of defence. Ironically, the woody stem is sometimes also used to make chess pieces. My dad taught me to play chess. I never did realise just how important this would prove to be.
I feel a little more human for eating, and for discreetly searching the house when we first got back. I must have left the light on – nothing seems amiss. We move to the comfort of the front room, the warmth of the glowing log fire. Jack leaves us and jumps the stairs three at a time. I still hold my breath. Seconds later, he returns for his mobile abandoned on the kitchen table, crisis averted for the reunion. Our stairs are so shallow and crooked, I wait for the thud of his fall. Then the smooth hums of music feeds down through aged floorboards.
Bea sighs heavily. ‘He’s such a gorgeous lad. I could eat him all up. You’re so lucky, Eve. He’s a real lad, but has that lovely sensitive side to him too.’ She squeezes my shoulder in passing. ‘He loves you to bits,’ she says, slumping herself deep into feather cushions. ‘Can you imagine, being on your own with him, if he was a little git? My brother was. So bloody annoying. We’re okay now, though. I suppose, he’s not so bad. Funny how life changes how you see people.’
She turns to look at Ruan, who has thrown his head back and closed his eyes, stretched out like a contented cat. She nudges his supporting arm away, jolting him back to the moment. ‘Do you get on with your sisters, Ru? I don’t know why, I always think of you being close. But you never really can tell, can you?’
You have no idea, Bea.
‘Are you asking or telling me, Bea? As in, d’you want me to add to your running conversation or are you happy going it alone?’ Playfully slapping her leg.
‘Cheeky! I’m asking you, of course. Just wasn’t sure you were still in the room with us. What with the snoring.’
‘Get shot, I so wasn’t snoring.’ He shrugs, sitting up.
‘And dribbling.’ She raises her eyebrows at him. ‘So, do you get on with them?’
‘Yeah, guess so. We still have our moments. Any more beers in the fridge, Eve?’ He stands up at the same time, making his way to the kitchen. He knows I have.
‘Help yourself.’ You’re probably going to need it with what I’m about to divulge.
He’s already opening the fridge door. ‘Anyone else while I’m here?’ he calls out. ‘Mmm, cake, nice one, don’t mind if I do,’ he chatters away. ‘What’s this cake, Eve? Is it edible?’
‘Course. Home-made. Apple and cinnamon or something like that, I think it is. Gloria made it the other day, popped it round while I was at work. I’d forgotten about it. It will be good, try it.’
‘Proper job! Anyone else?’ he calls.
‘God, no, thanks.’ I couldn’t stomach any more food; my gut is already twisting and turning, bound in a tight knot.
‘Yeah, I’ll have some. Make sure my piece is bigger than yours. I’ll be checking.’ Bea taps her stomach in anticipation.