Living with Shadows (25 page)

Kate went to his bedside. ‘How are you feeling now?’

‘A bit groggy.’ He closed his eyes and swallowed hard. ‘I’m sorry . . .’

‘Forget it, Ben. We’ll talk tomorrow. I’ll pick you up in the morning and we can pick up a few things from the flat. You can stay with us for a while.’

‘Thanks.’ He managed a smile as he looked up at her.

Kate bent down and kissed his forehead. ‘Everything’s going to be all right.’ Sam went over and kissed him, telling him to get a good night’s rest. He looked as though he might fall asleep the moment they left the room, but who knows what was going through his mind and whether he’d find any rest that night. Kate was pretty sure she wouldn’t. Once again, she found herself caught up in someone else’s life, trying to imagine why this was happening, and wondering what she could do to mend his broken life.

It had turned two o’clock as they headed back out of the hospital towards the car. Kate was weary. ‘Whatever made him do it?’ she whispered.

Sam took a few moments before she replied. ‘Whatever it is, it will have to wait until tomorrow. You know he’s safe now, Mum, so stop worrying. I’ll come back with you in the morning if you like; help you get his stuff together.’

‘Thanks, love. I’d appreciate that.’ Kate was glad of the offer. She didn’t want to be on her own with Ben. She was afraid of asking too many questions and even more afraid of finding out the truth.

When she got home, Jim was still up even though she’d phoned to say she would be back late. She told him everything she knew, except that Ben would be staying with them for a while. She couldn’t cope with any resistance or arguments at so late an hour. Jim stroked his chin thoughtfully, and she wondered if he half suspected what she had in mind. Surely, after all that had happened, he couldn’t object.

She went to bed that night feeling as though her world was collapsing around her; first Michael and now Ben. What were the chances of being so close to two young men who try to end their lives within a few weeks of each other? It was probably easier to understand the way Michael felt. What kind of future could he hope for on his release, still many years away? Realistically, he was probably right about his prospects. How could he have a relationship with someone without them knowing about his past? Once they knew what he’d done, it could never be forgotten. Supposing there was an argument and Michael became angry, wouldn’t a person feel more threatened in that situation knowing he’d killed someone. Could anyone be sure he wouldn’t lose control again? Maybe he didn’t know himself and wasn’t prepared to take the risk.

And what about the present? Every day a living hell. Waking up each day to the same routine; every hour of every day mapped out for you—when to eat, when to rest, when to study or work, when to be in your cell, out of your cell; made to do without question what the regime tells you to do; socialise with people you can’t stand; attend courses for personal development where you have to bare your soul in front of strangers; counselling; discussions; a life without choice or freedom—things most people don’t think twice about.

Yes, it was easy to understand Michael’s reasons but what about Ben? What was his hell? Money? Women? Work? On balance, it seemed Michael had less to live for.

Kate lay with eyes wide open, staring into the blackness of the room, afraid of the dark shadows that seemed to loom over her. She pulled the duvet up around her chin, closed her eyes and longed for morning in the hope that it would bring even a glimmer of optimism back into her life.

She awoke from a fitful sleep just after seven. A clatter of dishes and cutlery from downstairs told her Jim was already up and about but the soothing impression these sounds made upon her was short lived when her thoughts inevitably returned to the horror of the previous day and the looming uncertainties of the present one. Her immediate concern was how to tell Jim that she was bringing Ben back with her. She was running a few imaginary conversations in her head when she heard his feet on the stairs and her body flinched as the door burst open. Jim walked in carrying a tray, the smell of toast and coffee drifting towards her as he set it down on the bedside table.

‘I thought you’d better eat something before you go.’ He lifted a mug of coffee and a slice of toast from the tray before sitting down on the edge of the bed. ‘Shall I take you to the hospital?’

‘No, it’s OK, Sam’s picking me up. Then we need to go round to Ben’s flat to collect a few things.’

‘Collect a few things?’

‘Oh . . . yes. Well, he can’t stay at the flat for a while.’

‘Why not?’

Kate could hardly believe he needed to ask and was unable to hide her annoyance. ‘Because it isn’t a good idea for him to be on his own just now.’

Jim studied the cup he held between his hands. ‘Of course not. I suppose you’d like him here for a while?’

‘Well, where else can he go? He shouldn’t be on his own; the doctor said as much last night. If he goes back to that flat . . .’

‘Look, I understand. He must come back here. But we need to get to the bottom of things. We haven’t a clue what’s happened to him, why he’s ended up like this.’

Jim might have wanted all the answers right away, but Kate didn’t. She wanted time for everything to settle down, peacefully, as a family; doing ordinary things like eating, joking, chatting together. ‘I don’t think he needs the third degree right now, do you?’

‘I’m not saying that. I just think . . .’ He stared at her for a few moments and then, instead of the protest she had expected, he resigned himself to her wishes. ‘I think, yes we ought to try and help him.’

Kate looked up at him, surprised but mostly relieved at what he’d just said. ‘Thanks, Jim.’

He took the cup from her hands and placed it on the table next to the bed before putting his arms around her. ‘We’ll sort him out one way or another,’ he told her tenderly.

At last, Jim seemed to understand what she was going through and, more importantly, was prepared to help Ben. For the first time in ages, she really felt as though there was some common ground between them, even if the circumstances weren’t as solid as she would have liked.

‘I ought to get back to work.’ Jim loosened his arm from around her shoulders as he eased himself up from the couch.

‘Not yet,’ Helen said, drowsily. She pressed her body closer into his and ran a red fingernail between the black hairs on his chest. ‘It’s been so long . . . I don’t want you to leave me just yet.

Jim kissed the top of her head and lay back down still feeling dazed by the impulsiveness of their intimacy.

Any regrets? Helen tilted her head towards his face and searched his eyes while she waited for his answer.

‘No . . . and you?’

‘Why should I? I’m separated, remember?’

Jim didn’t quite know what to make of that and, anyway, he did not feel comfortable with the question of regret and its connotations of misdemeanour and guilt. ‘Yes, I remember. Do you ever see him?’

She turned away slightly, raised her arm to her head and pulled a few strands of hair across her lips. ‘No, never.’

Her tone made it clear she was reluctant to talk about him. If her marriage had been anything like his first, he could understand why. Once again he was troubled by a pang of guilt and steered the conversation towards something more agreeable to his conscience. ‘You aren’t from round here.’

‘No, I’m from Liverpool originally but went to live with my grandparents in Bromley when I was ten.’

‘We were practically neighbours,’ Jim enthused. ‘I’m from Lewisham. Why did you leave your parents? Sorry, I didn’t mean to . . .’

‘That’s OK. It’s parent, actually. I never knew my father but he was probably abandoned like me. You see, my mother decided she would have the chance of a better future without having to drag a kid around with her so she dropped me off in Kent and cleared off abroad with some chap she’d only known a couple of months.’

Her reply took Jim by surprise and he squeezed her gently as he tried to imagine how awful it must have been. ‘I’m sorry.’

‘Oh, don’t be. My grandparents were wonderful; there was nothing they wouldn’t do for me. It was as if they felt somehow responsible for that woman and had to make it up to me. And before you ask, I haven’t seen her since, nor should I want to.’

Another twinge of conscience as he thought of his own daughter, even though the circumstances couldn’t be more dissimilar. ‘Did she ever try to see you again?’

‘Apparently not. She used to write to my grandparents, ask how we were doing and I’d get a card at Christmas and birthdays, but they stopped after I wrote to her telling her what an evil, selfish cow she was.’

Jim felt her body stiffen and wondered how deep the emotional scars of being abandoned by her mother really were.

‘Strange thing, though,’ she continued thoughtfully. ‘In everything I’ve ever done, she’s been there, tucked away in the shadows of my mind, as if I’ve had to prove myself to her, show her what I’ve achieved in spite of her. All through my A levels, university, modelling . . .’ (An image of Helen gliding down a catwalk flashed through Jim’s mind.) ‘ . . . and finally successful designer, I pushed myself to be the best, for her, yet I hate her guts. Does that sound crazy?’

‘Not really. We all like to please our parents no matter what, I guess. But do you think you would have had the same success if you’d stayed with her in Liverpool?’

‘Who knows? All I do know is that all this striving to prove something has had a double edged effect on my life. It’s as though I’ve lived my life for her, not me, and because of that, I feel I don’t really know who I am.’

Jim felt a hot tear on his chest and realised how distressing a life she had fought her way through. This woman he held in his arms who on the surface appeared to be completely in control of everything, successful, beautiful, content, was still that ten year old child inside because of a mother who decided she didn’t want her.’

` ` `

As soon as Kate had left for the hospital, Jim’s thoughts careered back to Helen and his shock at discovering how vulnerable she really was. Now, as he lay stretched out on the settee in the living room, he brought to mind every detail of their lovemaking and conversation. He was already beginning to get used to the idea that he had embarked on an affair and was looking forward to seeing her again the next day. Part of his nonchalant stance had to do with Kate’s decision to bring Ben home with her. Again, she had taken it upon herself to make a judgement on an important family issue without consulting him. He would probably have agreed to his staying with them for a while anyway, at least until they got to the bottom of things, but to be treated as though he had no say in the matter was totally unacceptable. Instead of voicing his annoyance, Jim had been completely compliant to the extent that when Kate asked him to get the spare room ready for Ben’s homecoming, he made not the slightest objection.

Ben was waiting for them on the car park when they arrived at the hospital, his collar pulled up around his ears and his dark hair plastered to his head. A frown gathered across his brow as they pulled up next to him.

‘How long have you been out here?’ Kate asked.