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Authors: Alexia Casale

BOOK: House of Windows
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‘We’ve got him on his own until those labs come back. Just a precaution till we’re absolutely certain there’s nothing else lurking in his system that might be bad for the other kids on the ward,’ the nurse explained. ‘Remember, now: no waking my patient!’

Bill stood for a moment, staring down at Nick in silence, while Tim threw himself into one of the plastic chairs, braced his elbows against his knees and dropped his head into his hands.

Bill rubbed the back of his neck as every part of him protested at the fact that it was nearly four in the morning after a long day and horrifying night. He still felt cold and shaky from the shock, the fear of the endless fifteen minutes in the ambulance on the way to the hospital.

‘It’s my fault.’

Bill sank into the second chair, reached over to pat Tim’s shoulder. ‘Of course it’s not, Tim. You weren’t even here—’

‘Nick had an accident. About two weeks ago. Some idiot driver caught him with his wing mirror and he came off his bike, fell in the ditch by the Botanic Gardens.’ Tim’s face was dull red as he hunched forward over his knees, staring at the linoleum. ‘He was a bit bruised, but I put him in the bath to warm up and he seemed fine. I tried to get him to go to Addenbrooke’s the next morning just to be sure, but he didn’t want to and there didn’t seem to be anything specific to worry about and I kept a close eye all week. I mean, I knew he had a cold but I
swear
it was just a cold when I left for the States.’ His bloodshot eyes lifted to Bill’s. ‘I swear it was only a cold.’

‘Of course it was, Tim. Look, these things happen. It was
Michael
here when that cold turned into something nasty, not you.’

Tim shook his head, looking away. His hands, hanging between his knees, wound into a ball. ‘I should have called
you. I said I’d call you. I knew things weren’t going well. I knew Nick was struggling. There was this night – the night you went down to visit his mum – I found him drinking Michael’s whisky. I should have told you that time we chatted but … he’d only had a bit and it was just the once so I figured, well, it’s nothing I didn’t do – to extremes – when my parents died.’ He swallowed uncomfortably. ‘I nearly did call, you know, right before I left. I went down to visit Gosswin one day and Nick was there and I overheard some stuff, but I knew he’d never forgive me if he realised I’d heard, let alone told anyone … and I didn’t want to get in the middle of it.’ He sighed. ‘You see, Bill? You shouldn’t have trusted me with something so important.’ He rubbed a hand across his mouth, his face a mask of self-disgust under the over-bright hospital strip lighting.

Bill squeezed his shoulder. ‘Tim, out of all the people involved, you are the
least
to blame. This was never meant to be part of your role in the household. It’s Mike’s job: Nick’s
his
responsibility, not yours.’

‘Nick’s not really anyone’s responsibility. That’s basically what he told Gosswin – that no one gave enough of a damn to make him their problem,’ Tim whispered to the floor.

‘Mike never did manage to get things together after Nick came to live with him. He expected Yvette to take care of Nick and after her breakdown—’

‘Not to insult the dead, but some of the stuff Nick said to Gosswin … I don’t think she did a very good job either, even before the breakdown.’

‘Probably not,’ Bill said. ‘Probably not.’ Looking across at Tim, Bill found him staring vacantly at the ground once more, the marks under his eyes standing out like bruises. Everything about his posture said that he wanted nothing more than to find somewhere flat to lie down and fall asleep. ‘I’m going to tell Michael to stay in Washington,’ Bill heard himself say.

Tim stared at him for a moment, his mouth coming open, but then he closed it. Nodded. ‘Isn’t he going to want to come home?’

‘I won’t lie to him, but I don’t think it’ll be hard to persuade him to stay away. If I thought Mike would use this as an opportunity to be a real father I wouldn’t steal it from him, but I don’t honestly believe he’d bring himself to do it. And what a terrible waste that would be. I know I’m not Nick’s first choice, but maybe I’ll be enough. Love is love, right?’ he said lightly, as if it were a joke.

‘I don’t think Nick’s the type to turn his nose up at being cared for – so long as he really believes that’s what it is, not pity.’

Bill gave him an odd, arrested look. ‘So that’s what I did wrong last month.’ He shook his head. ‘I’ve been so worried about looking greedy to be a father rather than just his godfather that I’ve made Nick think it’s all about Mike.’ He sighed. ‘There’s my closest friend leaving this gaping hole in his son’s life and here I am, trying not to step into it. It always felt too much like temptation to be the right thing. I just wish I’d been keeping a close enough eye to … Well,’ he
said, sitting up straight, ‘I’ll start now. I’ll call the College tomorrow, see if the Senior Tutor will agree an aegrotat, or are they calling it a DDH now? The University still has a Deemed to Deserve Honours allowance, right, for students who’re seriously ill during exams?’

Tim nodded.

‘I’ll get them to request one in case Nick isn’t well enough to sit the exams. Sounds like he will be, but maybe knowing it doesn’t matter will take the pressure off enough for him to relax and focus on getting better.’

The nurse reappeared by the door. ‘Your ten minutes are up.’

Bill and Tim exchanged a look, but got to their feet without argument.

Half an hour later, Bill was standing in the Derrans’ kitchen, listening to Tim stumble up to bed. Leaning against the counter he poured himself a generous measure of Michael’s best single malt. ‘I’m in sore need of courage,’ he told the bottle, ‘and beggars can’t be choosers.’

Nick looked up with a smile as Bill rapped a smart tattoo on the doorframe the next morning.

‘You’re certainly looking better today,’ Bill said as he stepped up to the bed. ‘How’re you feeling?’

Nick shrugged, raising a hand to rub absently at his chest. ‘OK.’ A thread of sound, following by a rattling,
crackling cough and a grimace. ‘OK,’ he repeated, slightly louder.

‘Well, you sound like a one-person percussion section,’ Tim said, leaning in the doorway. ‘In other words,
gross!

Nick’s smile broadened, bringing a faint flush of colour to his cheeks. ‘Hey,’ he croaked. ‘How was the wedding?’

‘The trip was as expected: exhausting, mostly vomit-inducing and frequently exasperating. The coming home was where all the excitement was at. I mean, I would commend you on your swan-dive technique but since the whole thing involved you
spectacularly
and
thoroughly
breaking that promise you made me about not passing out in corners, I’m thinking I’ll go with stern and disapproving,’ he said, perching one hip on the edge of the bed.

‘Sorry,’ Nick whispered, grinning, though the smile left his face as he looked down at the blankets. He shuddered in a breath, let it out as a hitching, careful sigh. ‘What …’ He swallowed. ‘What did the doctors say about the exams?’

‘They said you’ll probably be fine, but I’ve already talked to College,’ Bill said, draping his coat over the back of the chair beside the bed. ‘You’ve got a DDH if you need it, but let’s cross that bridge if we come to it. The important thing is that it doesn’t matter: all your supervisors are happy to sign off on the fact that your work this year has been exemplary. That’s all Part I exams are about anyway: they don’t count towards anything. So don’t even think about it for now. Just focus on getting better. I talked to your doctor this morning and he said he’ll probably let you come home tomorrow, so
you’re only stuck here for a day. We just need to have a little chat about … well, about who’s going to be there when you get home.’

‘Maybe they’ll let me stay an extra day.’

Bill frowned as he settled himself into the chair. ‘I know you must have had quite a scare too, Nick, but surely you don’t
want
to stay in hospital?’

‘No, I just … I might be a bit rocky tomorrow, but the day after I’m sure I’ll be fine, or at least I’ll
manage
. I always do,’ he said quietly, not looking at either of them.

‘Nick, the issue isn’t that you’ll have to manage
alone
. There’s no question of you staying in hospital if you don’t need to.’ But Nick’s face was tightening into the careful expression of polite disinterestedness that Bill had always hated.

‘Bill’s going to be staying for the next two weeks,’ Tim interrupted. ‘And I’m around, whether you want me or not. The thing is your dad being in Washington.’ He shot Bill a meaningful look when Nick ducked his head.

‘I talked to Mike, Nick, and of
course
he wants to be here but … you might be very annoyed with me for this but
I
said he should stay in the States. I know that things have been … tense lately, and I know how Mike gets. You should be feeling better by the time he gets back and then you can have a proper talk. I probably shouldn’t have made that decision for you, but I just thought—’

‘It’s fine, Bill,’ Nick said. ‘But you don’t have to muck up your life to be here while my dad’s away.’

‘Nick, that part of the issue is
not
up for debate. Even if Mike
hadn’t
been away, you’d have had me camped out in your guest room. We’re family so there’s no question that I want to be here, Michael or no Michael.’

Nick gave an odd little shiver.

‘Anyway, I’ve got a key so you can’t keep me out. You’ll just have to like it or lump it.’

Nick’s eyes were fixed on the bedclothes, his face impassive, but his shoulders, swamped by the hospital gown, grew rigid.

‘Of course, if you want I’ll go and call Mike right now. Tell him to come home. What do you think, Nick? It’s up to you.’

Nick closed his eyes.

‘Geez, Nick,’ said Tim, ‘get all excited, why don’t you, about the prospect of our company?’

Nick snorted half-heartedly. ‘Nah.’

‘We made a deal, Nick. Remember what you told me when you persuaded me to let you loan me the money for my trip?’ Tim ignored the look of surprise Bill shot him. ‘You said that we were friends so it wasn’t a big deal. So stop making a big deal out of this. Besides, you’ve forgotten Ange. Do you seriously think she’s not going to be round every day, plumping your pillows and trying to spoon-feed you soup? I won’t have to do anything but sit back and watch you squirm.’

‘Bully,’ Nick whispered, though he was biting his lip to stop himself from grinning.

‘Right, well I’ll consider that settled then,’ said Bill. ‘Now,
Tim and I need some coffee so why don’t you have a kip and we’ll see you in a bit?’

‘You don’t have to—’

‘Oh but we’re looking forward to watching the nurses torment you,’ Tim cut in. ‘I am going to store up
so
many embarrassing stories. Like the outfit. I was thinking I could get one of those disposable cameras from the gift shop and … click-click.’ Tim mimed taking a picture.

‘Pick on me while I’m lying in a hospital bed, why don’t you?’

‘Well, now that I have permission …’

Nick moved to kick him but Tim had fled to the door by the time he got his legs untangled from the blankets.

‘Think now is the perfect time for that coffee, Bill. See you down there.’

‘Your bedside manner sucks!’ Nick called after him, prompting a fresh round of coughing.

Bill stepped forward to rub his back, wincing at the way Nick’s shoulder blades shuddered beneath his hand. ‘Enough talking for you,’ he said fondly. ‘Lie back now.’ He drew the covers up as Nick settled against the pillows. ‘See you in a bit.’

‘Bill,’ Nick said, as he reached the door. ‘Thanks.’

Chapter 25

(Easter Term × Week 2 [≈ end of April])

‘So since my X-rays were good, can I stay up to watch the film?’ Nick coaxed as they climbed into Bill’s car in the hospital car park.

Bill smiled as he started the engine. ‘They were and I’m very glad about it, but your bedtime is still going to be ten o’clock sharp for at least another week, just like I said.’

Nick pulled a face. ‘I can’t remember a time in my life when I had a
bedtime
.’

‘Even with your mum?’ Bill asked, trying to keep his tone nonchalant.

Nick looked away out of the window. ‘She wasn’t all that different from Dad, really,’ he said softly.

‘Nick, one of the things I want to do when you’re feeling better is talk about your mum.’

Nick glanced his way, then down at his hands, picking at a broken nail. ‘That’s going to be a fun conversation.’

‘That’s your father speaking.’

Nick turned in his seat to look at Bill, frowning but tilting his head as if trying to work something out.

‘I’ve always assumed that the two of you had some sort of conversation about Yvette and then it was just too painful to keep raking it all over, but am I wrong about that, Nick?
Did
you ever have that conversation?’ From out of the corner of his eye, he could tell Nick was leaning towards him, still and intent. ‘Don’t get me wrong: I don’t have any answers. No one has ever really understood what went wrong: why she got ill the way she did.’

The car ahead swerved suddenly away from the kerb and Bill’s attention went to the road. He slowed but the other car seemed fine again.

‘I mean,’ he said, eyes on the other driver, ‘I mean, we all did our best to figure it out after her first breakdown – your grandmother and your dad took her to all the best doctors …’ The other car slowed, indicated left, then right, then left again. ‘They really did all they could.’

The driver ahead flicked the windscreen wash on, the spray arcing back so that Bill had to put on his own wipers.

‘But everyone was nonplussed that it didn’t happen
before
Finals, but
after
she got her First—’

Next to him, Nick jerked suddenly, a full-body shock of motion.

‘You
did
know she’d had a breakdown just after we
did our Cambridge Finals?’ But he knew the answer even as the words crossed his lips: knew that instead of ‘gently broaching the subject’ his distraction had landed him in the deep end in the stupidest place possible for this conversation. He clicked on the indicator, pulled into a bus layby.

Nick’s face was as open as he had ever seen it: full of questions and fear and hope.

Bill turned to face him, bracing an arm on the steering wheel against the pull of his seatbelt. ‘I’m sorry, Nick. I never meant to get into it now … And it’s not like I have a lot I can tell you. All I really wanted to say is that, whatever went wrong for your mum, you can’t read anything into what she did afterwards. I know it must have been … awful when you couldn’t see her or even talk to her on the phone.’

Nick’s face went blank, his eyes empty.

Bill clicked off his seatbelt to face him properly. ‘I mean, maybe she thought it was
better
if you didn’t see her while she was so sick. Or maybe there’s nothing
to
understand about why she did what she did. Maybe there isn’t any explanation, however hard that is to accept. But whatever the case – no matter how it feels – you have to know that what she did was about her. It wasn’t about you.’

Nick turned away to the window, looking out at a beautiful house half-hidden behind a screen of trees and hedges. It bowed out into two storeys of bay windows, ending in a flat roof standing as a balcony for the third-storey rooms.
A smart guard rail of crenellations, tipped with burgundy tiles, made the house look like it should have been part of a castle.

‘Nick, listen to me. Yvette was sick before you were even born. Whatever the reason for the second breakdown, it was
not
because of you.’

‘You don’t know that!’ Nick whispered, refusing to look around. ‘You can’t
know
that.’

Bill hunched awkwardly over the gearshift, but Nick shrugged away from his touch. ‘I
do
know that, Nick.’

Nick shook his head, took an unsteady breath. ‘You don’t
understand
. You weren’t
there
. It was my fault the fish tank broke. Roger and I were fighting and it broke and she just kept
screaming
. Screaming and screaming and screaming …’ He flinched away when Bill reached out to grasp his shoulder. ‘Don’t! Please, Bill, just
don’t
.’

‘Nick. Nick, look at me.’ He tried to get an arm about Nick’s shoulders, but he shuddered violently away, pressing himself into the corner of the seat against the doorframe. ‘Whatever happened with this blasted fish tank was not what made your mum ill. If something that small could trigger it, then the breakdown was inevitable. It would have happened sooner or later—’

Nick shook his head. ‘You don’t
understand
,’ he choked out, curling his forearm in front of his face as he took a shuddering breath.

‘Then explain it to me, Nick. Explain it to me. Or if you can’t talk to me, maybe you could talk to someone
who doesn’t know you, doesn’t know Mike or Yvette: a professional who can—’

Nick’s head snapped round, his eyes filled with horror. ‘I’m
not
like her. I’m not
crazy
!’

‘I know you’re not,’ Bill said, gripping Nick’s shoulder. ‘That’s not what I meant—’

‘I got sick because of that car knocking me into the Cam. I’m not going crazy. I don’t need to see a shrink. I’m
not
going to live in one of those
places
!’ he gasped, face feverish with despair.

‘I never said anything of the
sort
, Nick. It’s absolutely the
furthest
thing from my mind. The way you’ve handled everything that’s happened, there’s not a chance you’re like Yvette. Not a
chance
. I just meant that maybe I’m not who you want to talk to, but it might help to talk to
someone
. Even normal people need a good listener now and then. Someone to help them get things straight in their own head—’

A shattering horn blast sounded behind them, making them both jump. Bill craned round to see a bus indicating to get into the layby. When he turned back to Nick, he found him slumped limply in his seat, staring dazedly through the windscreen, pale and wrung out.

‘Nick …’

‘Please, Bill,’ Nick whispered. ‘Not here. Not now.’

The bus beeped its horn again, then a third time. With a growl, Bill slammed his hand down on the button for the hazard lights. ‘I know this isn’t the best place for this conversation, but maybe now is as good a time as any. I don’t
know what part of this I’m not understanding, Nick, so I need you to tell me. I can’t help if you don’t tell me how.’

But Nick just shook his head, rocking it back and forth against the headrest, eyes squeezed shut.

His forehead was hot when Bill reached out to push the damp hair out of his eyes. This time, Nick didn’t pull away, just sighed: a little sob of breath.

‘Nick, I promise you there is
nothing
you can tell me that will make me think what happened to your mum was your fault.’

Nick gasped a breath as he looked up at him, searching his face. He opened his mouth to speak, then doubled over as a coughing fit overtook him.

With a long blast of the horn, the bus swerved around them.

When Bill turned back to Nick, he was rubbing wearily at his chest, expression shuttered. ‘Can we go home now?’ he croaked. ‘Please, Bill, can we just go home?’

Bill let his head drop for a moment, let his breath out in a sigh. ‘When you’re ready, I promise I will help you fix whatever it is that’s wrong. I
promise
.’

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