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Authors: Anne Stormont

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BOOK: Change of Life
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“Oh, Tom, the girls asked you not to go to Andy. Could you not just leave it?”

Tom merely shook his head slightly, as if I hadn’t spoken. “And the plot thickens,” he continued. “It’s him - Robbie - and he’s admitted to hanging about the house. It seems the lad wants to talk to us, all of us, together. Andy’s going to bring him round tomorrow evening around seven. He wants to apologise, apparently. More likely Andy’s told him he has to apologise!”

“Is that it? Who is he? What does he want with us all? I thought it was Jenny he was interested in.”

“Andy didn’t say, but I hope he’s warned him to stay away in future – away from the house and away from the girls!”

“He’s probably harmless you know - got a crush on Jenny, or maybe Sam – as she seems to think.”

“Well, he’s not welcome here – it’s
not
harmless stalking a young girl.”

“Oh, for goodness sake – he’s not a stalker - you sound like Max!”

I left Tom in the kitchen and phoned my brother. It was lovely to hear Michael’s voice. He’d been living in Australia for about sixteen years. He’d only been home for two short visits in all that time - the last occasion being for our father’s funeral four years before. On neither occasion did we get a chance to talk properly, and I don’t really know why. Whenever I suggested a trip to Australia, Tom always came up with some reason why it was not a good time. He wasn’t even keen on Sam spending her gap year at Michael’s home. But, of course, Sam got round him in a way that I never could. Michael hadn’t been as close to me as Heather, but he was my big brother and I loved him.

As always, it was good to hear his voice. “So, Rick’s working out as the new tenant - looking after the flat?” he asked.

“Yes, yes
it’s
fine – much neater than when the students had it. I did a check a couple of weeks ago. Rick wasn’t there, but it all seemed in order. Being Lucy’s brother, he’ll not want to risk her wrath by abusing the place!”

“Mm, I suppose not. Upsetting both you and your best friend is probably something best avoided.” I could hear the smile in his voice.

“Yes indeed!” I laughed. “He’s away working at the moment. Taking photographs up in Skye I think.”


And it’s not too much for you – being a landlord?”

“No – not at all – I wish all my responsibilities were so straightforward.”

“You do too much, Rosie. God knows how you coped looking after Dad the way you did, on top of everything else – all that going back and forward to Edinburgh and then having him to live with you. I do appreciate all you did back then. You know I do. That’s why I wanted you to have the flat - I don’t deserve it – you do. I don’t need it. I’m only asking about it to make sure you’re not having any hassle.”

“Yes, I know you are. And I told you it belongs to both of us – I don’t want your half. I don’t really need a flat either.”

“Well, you never know. I like to think that my little sister has a place to call her own.” Michael spoke gently as he added, “Should she ever require it.”

“I can’t see that happening! Like we said though, it’s a good investment to hang on to it – and if any of the kids go to uni in Edinburgh it’ll really come into its own.”

Michael talked a bit more about our shared rental income from the flat and about the ever changing tax implications, which I did my best to follow. I also knew that this year, as always, I would end up having to get Tom’s help sorting it all out. Then I remembered looking at the old photos of Heather and me earlier, and told Michael about it.

“Do you ever think about her?” I asked.

“No, hardly at all,” he replied. “How’s Sam doing by the way? Jo and I miss having her help around the place. The girls miss her too.”

We chatted on, discussing our children, the weather, our jobs –but there was no real heart to heart. He certainly hadn’t wanted to talk about Heather. I didn’t mention my imminent hospital appointment or the incident with the boy. I know I’d made a conscious decision not to mention the hospital, but I’ve no idea why I didn’t tell the story of the mysterious boy.

 

Chapter Six

 

Before leaving for work the next morning, I tried to ensure that Jenny and Adam had eaten something and
were
calm and organised for their last exam. Jenny was quiet and rather tense, like an athlete focussing on the big race. She refused breakfast as usual, and would only have some orange juice as she looked over her revision notes. Adam was surly and withdrawn and impervious to my attempts to lighten his mood. And, although Robbie’s forthcoming visit crossed my mind first thing, it was no more than a passing thought.

Once at school, all thoughts of anything, other than the class in front of me, left my head. The children in my class were a sparky lot and I was completely taken up with teaching primary three.

After school, Max popped his head round the door of my classroom. “Are you going to be long?” he asked.

“Hello to you too, I’ve had a good day, thanks for asking. And you?” I smiled as he rolled his eyes and sighed.

“Yeah, yeah, but are you? Neil and Connor are going to play footy on the field and I can go too if you’re working on here. Oh, and can I go to Ruby’s for tea tomorrow? Neil’s going to his gran’s and he said I can go too.”

“Yes, you can go for tea. I’ll be away at a meeting tomorrow afternoon anyway.” It was sort of the truth and I was glad I wouldn’t have to make arrangements for Max when I’d be at the hospital the next day. “And yes, go and play, I’ll be about half an hour.” He ran off. “Watch your school clothes,” I called after him. “No diving! I’ll see you at the field.” There was no reply, only the corridor door slamming.

Max made me smile. He was so carefree, so sure of his world. He didn’t seem to mind me working at his school, as long as I remembered my place during school hours. He was such an easy child.

Later, over dinner, I asked as casually as I could how Jenny and Adam got on with their exam.

“Fine, Mother,” Jenny said. “Don’t
worry,
I think I did enough to pass. But don’t ask me anything about cell division or anything else biological. It’s all gone now it’s over.”

“What about you, Adam?” Tom asked.

“What about me?” Adam didn’t look up.

“How was the biology exam?”

“Okay.”

“Do you think you’ve done enough to pass?”

“Can we just leave
it!
” Adam shook his head at Tom, pushed his chair back and left the table. The kitchen door banged shut behind him.

“What’s up with him?” Max asked, in a way that suggested he didn’t really want to know, but was amused at his brother’s outburst.

“I did ask you to go easy, Tom,” I said. “I told you he’s feeling the pressure.”

“Oh, for heavens sake, it was a perfectly reasonable question. I’m interested – concerned that he does well. Is that so awful?”

“Dad, you know Adam loves a drama,” Sam said.
“He loves being miserable.
He’ll be fine.
And, Mum, stop mollycoddling him.
He’s a big boy now. He needs to learn to cope with the stress of life.” With that, Sam pushed her empty plate away and stood up.

I didn’t know who I was angrier with, Tom or Sam. If we’d been alone I’d have tackled Tom there and then. Apart from stressing our vulnerable son, his insensitive mishandling of Adam was achieving nothing. As for Sam, she was so like Tom, just as insensitive to Adam’s needs.

So I was distracted, thinking how I’d tackle Tom and Sam separately. I’d momentarily forgotten that Tom still had to break it to the girls that he’d stuck his oar in about Robbie. They had no idea about Robbie’s impending visit. I began to clear the table. Jenny got up to give me a hand. Sam pushed her plate in my direction and stood up at the same time as Tom. Only Max remained at the table. He appeared to be responding to a text on his mobile – the mobile he wasn’t supposed to bring to the table.

It was then Tom spoke. “Before you go, Sam, there’s something I need to tell you.”

I froze, my hands clenched on the back of one of the chairs. The kitchen had gone very quiet. I heard the click of a button on Max’s phone, it sounded like a pistol being cocked. It wasn’t only Adam who was going to be upset this evening. I had such a bad feeling about this whole thing.

“Oh, what?”
Sam did her well-practised, bored teenager pose.

“This Robbie – it
was
him watching the house. I got Andy to look into it. He went to the supermarket – questioned the boy.” Tom sounded so pompous I wanted to slap him.

Sam glowered at her father. I felt slightly queasy and sat down. I shook my head at Tom in exasperation. He was oblivious.

“Nice one, Dad,” said Sam. “That’s just great. Wait till everyone hears about this. Are you going to go to the police about all our friends?”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” said Tom, dismissively. He didn’t even look at her. “You said yourself you were uneasy about him.”

“Yes, but…” Sam shook her head. I wondered if Tom really did have no idea how misguided he was.

“Anyway,” he continued, unabashed, “Andy’s bringing the boy round in about half an hour, so he can explain himself.”

Sam gasped. Max laid down his phone, looked from Tom, to Sam, to me. I tried to summon up the wherewithal to intervene. I was too slow.

“What?” shrieked
Jenny.
She’d been standing, a pile of crockery in her hands, listening to the exchange between her father and her sister. Now she slammed the plates and bowls onto the table. She stared angrily at her father. “I don’t believe you sometimes! Listen to yourself – how arrogant can you get!” She looked at Sam and me, turned her palms up and raised her shoulders, as if checking that we were as outraged as she was.


Robbie’s being
bloody dragged round here,” she went on, “to ‘explain himself’.” She made a mocking, quotation marks gesture in the air. “Christ, you’re embarrassing!”

“Look, Jen-” Tom did not sound remotely conciliatory.

But Jenny wasn’t looking for pacification. “No, you look, Dad. I begged you not to do this – but, oh no – you always know best.” She gave her father a look of such defiance. “Well I’m
off,
don’t expect me to attend this - this repulsive inquisition!”

With that she stormed out and up the stairs. “Bloody control freak!” she yelled, just before her bedroom door slammed.

Tom stood open-mouthed. He looked at me – not for support, surely? I stared back, shaking my head.

“What? Oh, come on!” he said.

“Like I said, Dad, nice one.”
With that Sam left the kitchen. “Give me a shout when Robbie gets here. He’ll need all the support he can get,” she called from the stairs.

“So the boy’s coming here to see us?” Max spoke at last. Again he looked from Tom to me. I put my hand on his.

“Yes he is,” said Tom, looking at his watch. “I suppose we better get ready. Come on, Max, give your mum a hand clearing this lot away. I’m off to phone the hospital – I’ve a couple of patients to check on.”

And then it was just Max and me left in the kitchen. I sat for a minute, stunned. Tom’s level of obliviousness was breathtaking.

I could have said no to Tom. I could have said, you organised this, you clear up - I’ll get my marking done, and iron Max’s school sweatshirt. But I didn’t.

In the end we didn’t need to give her a shout. It was Sam who ran to answer the door. She brought Andy and Robbie into the living room, where Tom and I were waiting. Sam went to fetch her sister and brothers. I wasn’t sure if they’d come, but if anyone could persuade them, Sam could.

“Come in. Sit down,” I said, indicating the smaller of the two sofas. “I’m Rosie. You must be Robbie.” He looked even more scared than when we met the day before.

BOOK: Change of Life
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